


Conventus

by hannahbeanies



Series: The Shields of Their Kin [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Asunder - Fandom, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Study, Cole will be happy because I need him to be happy, Colemance, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Grief/Mourning, Human Cole, Loss of Virginity, Minor Character Death, Morally Ambiguous Character, Not Beta Read, Original Character Death(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Post-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Recovered Memories, Red Templars, Romance, Sad with a Happy Ending, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 55,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4250814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahbeanies/pseuds/hannahbeanies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now with fanart! :D</p><p>Human pain doesn't change you - it reveals you. Colemance with adult human!Cole. Faerydae Lavellan is a Dalish warrior far from home. Still working at restoring the world as Inquisitor after the downfall of Corypheus, she receives news from her clan that leaves her roaming the Heartlands with only Cole as her companion. Is she ready to save Thedas again? How much has Cole changed since becoming human? </p><p>Here for smut? ;) It's in chapters 13 & 17<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asunder - separated; into pieces  
> Conventus - coming together; union
> 
> Spoilers for Asunder and Inquisition.
> 
> This story explores the dark parts of Cole, especially the parts we saw in Asunder. He is still the cute, cuddly, weirdo we love, but this fic also features his growth as a human - and that includes a lot of pain. It doesn't really have a "Cole comes in and heals the love interest's hurt" theme common to Colemance, so it won't be everyone's cup of tea. It's more about healing himself, but he also falls in love in the meantime. & They also kill a lot of bad guys and save the world. :) 
> 
> My goal for this story is to avoid infantilizing Cole and using ableist language. I hope I treat him with the respect he deserves. Please do not hesitate to let me know if you have suggestions for improvements or changes!

****  
  
Cover art by [shftd-scribbles](http://shftd-scribbles.tumblr.com/post/127293068582/annnnnnd-its-done-d-for-itshannahbeaniesblog)  
**Other _AMAZING_ story fanart can be found [here](http://itshannahbeaniesblog.tumblr.com/tagged/conventus-fanart)**

* * *

**ONE**

They say that a person controls their own destiny. Who "they" are isn't as well known as the mantra itself. The thought could be attributed to any philosopher, but Cole holds the phrase to his heart like a shield. He could change if he wanted to. He didn't have to wait around for a sign. Life is never truly motionless; it’s always moving toward something. You only need to steer the direction it goes, like one would lead a mount.

But is freewill enough to overcome the force of the nature? Was a stonewall enough to stop a hurricane? Sometimes it was. The other times people would just have to take cover.

Cole was indifferent to his surroundings at the bar, not really ignoring it but not really present in the moment. His body sagged in his seat, feet gently swaying against the bar stool. Most of the time he only made appearances down here so that others would not seek him out in his private quarters. It also helped draw attention away from himself. People didn’t question his presence – only his absence. While most of Skyhold accepted his permanent residence there, he did not want to give anyone a reason to question him. This was his home. He had nowhere else. He had no one else.

Both elbows rested on the counter, head cradled between two fists, Cole stared down at the drink in front of him. The alcohol was housed in a simple, clay mug, carefully crafted but not entirely impressive. The mug wasn’t a solid color, but instead contained a mix of light brown hues and black swirls. It was a very plain mug, yet so complex. Occasionally, bubbles would float from the bottom to the top of the mug, bursting as they met the surface. Cole had been counting them. Eight so far.

The Iron Bull's booming voice echoed through the tavern, nearly blocking out the sounds of other patrons there. He was explaining to someone how the Qunari held a certain reverence for dragons. Cole knows this already. The Iron Bull is partial to dragons and they often fill his mind. He stopped listening.

Nine bubbles now.

"Hey, kid. You aren't going to get drunk unless you actually drink it."

Cole jumped a little and then sighed, realizing that Iron Bull was actually talking to him now. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize. His being there was only a formality - a ritual he had been performing for months. He didn't look up from his task.

"It's strange. It burns my throat and my skin. Head heavy, sweat gathers on my brow, drips into eyes. I don't like the taste."

The Iron Bull seemed to approve of this comment and wrapped his large arm around Cole's frame. Cole liked the Iron Bull. He was honest and transparent.

"That's right. You better hurry with it, cause it's complete shit when it's warm." Cole felt Iron Bull's laugh vibrate through his words. He was happy that he convinced Cole to drink. Cole wasn’t sure if he is happy about it. He didn’t enjoy it too much. 

He lost much of his abilities since becoming more human. Very slowly, he felt like he was evolving further into a different shape. Molding. Churning and changing. Like cake batter when it's put in the oven, only if the oven was spinning around really fast. He was never really able to communicate with just his mind, but he used to be able to hear a great deal more than he does now. The sounds have become more like static electricity that comes from a mage's staff. He can still feel their emotions…

And all of it only gets worse with the drink.

He dipped a finger into his mug, lightly breaking the surface. He pulled it back out and watched as the drops collect on his finger.

_But what is me? What is them? Am I holding the pain or are they? Where do I end and they begin? Is it all the same?_

It gets very confusing.

If he concentrates, he can make out the words in the thoughts. But he doesn't bother most of the time. He still tries to help others, but he learned that it is rude to invade someone's mind without their permission. Varric taught him that. If he makes a mistake, he can't take it back and erase it. People see him and remember him now. He has to think carefully before he acts.

The Iron Bull likes to drink. When he is filled with spirits, his body hums with desire. It lessens the hurt he carries and clears the grey haze in his soul. He is free. Right now, he is thinking of touching the new barmaid. Cole knows The Iron Bull likes her red hair. He wonders if it reminds him of dragon's blood.

Cole knows about desire. He knows the man from the armory feels it when he sees the lady from the kitchens, with her long golden hair like the sun and bright blue eyes like a crystal clear lake. He knows the characters from Cassandra's book would feel desire, back when she would read to him, but she would get very uncomfortable and embarrassed and skim those parts. He knows Blackwall feels it when he gets close to Josephine and how she feels about him. He saw mages in the dark at the Spire, touching their lips together in a kiss, hands curving over the body, small noises escaping their mouths, hushed tones so they don't get caught. But he always saw them.

He knows that desire is what you feel when your heart gallops like a Halla running for its life from a hunter. He knows desire feels warm in your chest and travels through your veins, pools in the center, like a lake made of fire. It burns. That's lust.

Cole heard a set of footsteps approach the counter near them.

"Why, Cole. I think it may be wise for you to finish your drink before the Storm Coast gets jealous of your gloominess," Dorian quips with only slight humor. Cole could feel his concern for him but he still didn't look up. Instead, he rested his left arm on the counter and tucked his right fist under his chin.

"I don't like the taste. It makes the feeling murky, unclear. It's hard to see."

Dorian and Iron Bull both laughed enthusiastically at that, if not a bit forced.

"Yeah, kid. That's the point in drinking. Dulls the misery and heightens the pleasure."

Cole doesn't agree with this. He feels pleasure just fine and nothing gets rid of the misery.

He doesn't respond. He knows the Iron Bull drinks a lot because of his hurt. It doesn't help everyone's hurts, though. Sometimes it makes it worse. Sometimes it makes it darker, like in his case.

Suddenly he heard the door to the tavern swing open again. Instinctively, he turned his eyes away from his mug and saw her silhouette in the doorway, spare rays of golden sun enveloping her in a crown of light. Her hair was hanging around her shoulders, waving softly in the breeze caused by the door closing behind her. She approached them with an otherworldly grace. Leaning toward Cole, she grabbed his mug out from under him.

"Bull, I don't know why you keep insisting on getting Cole this awful shit. He isn't really fond of drinking. If you would get out of that ginger's tits long enough, you would notice."

Cole smiled for the first time that afternoon. He knows she made a playful joke. The Iron Bull snorted.

"Kid needs it, Boss. He is too uptight. Needs to loosen up."

Faerydae wasn't satisfied with this answer, but changed the subject.

"Bull, your contract ended months ago. I haven't been your boss for a long time. You can call me by my given name."

The Iron Bull huffed at that. "Faerydae is too big of a mouthful after I have had a few drinks, which is all the time. Boss just flows better."

Cole knows that the Inquisitor doesn't like her birthname much. It brings up past hurts she would rather let go. She would like to be called by the nickname her clan refers to her by, but there is another one that is much easier to pronounce for those who aren't Dalish. He wants to help.

"She would rather be called Fay."

Dorian responded from where he was sitting. "I think our charming Sera already had an answer for that one. What was it again? Oh yes 'Fay sounds too much like Fade and that is just too much hotness to melt titsicles.' I honestly never quite understood what she meant by that, though."

Sera has many fears of the Fade. She pictures it as a dark, blood red, sucking the life from everything. He doesn't see it like that.

Faerydae took a large swig of Cole's drink. She grimaced, but swallowed nevertheless.

He looked closely at her face. Her teeth were shining in the low light of the tavern. She carried the scent of the garden, almost like roses. He liked it. But he could feel the hurt coming off her, gravitating toward him like tidal waves crashing to the shore.

"The stream runs red with their blood. The air fills with the ashes of the remains. A girl cries alone behind a tent, hidden. The black consumes their hearts. You are afraid they are coming for them. Vengeance. Retribution for the knife-ear. "

She softly smiled at him.

"Yes, Cole. I received some news from my clan. They are leaving Wycome. I am afraid they will be too exposed now."

Dorian appeared alarmed. The Iron Bull grumbled into his drink.

"But isn't your keeper a chairman on the city council there? Why would they leave?" Dorian seems to understand her concern and mirrors it.

"Yes. Which is why it is perplexing news. There has to be a reason."

Dorian considered this, tapping his forefinger on his chin. "Quite a quandary, indeed."

She sat on the stool next to Cole and he caught more of her flowery scent. He was glad she has his drink. He forgot about the bubbles now, anyway.

* * *

 

Notes: This story is not beta read, so please excuse glaring mistakes. I went through it several times myself, but you know how easy it is to miss things in your own work. Just let me know if you find something and I'll fix it!


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

_Da'lin Faerydae,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I regret not writing sooner._

_Your clan travels from Wycome. I know you made our safety possible, but we cannot stay. I fear we may overstayed our welcome._

_I will send word once we have found a temporary settlement. As of now, we are heading south along the coast._

_Remember well, aravel ena arla vent u vir mahvir._

_Dar'eth shiral, Da'vhenan_

_Keeper Istimaethoriel Lavellan_  

* * *

 

Shit, shit,  _shit._ What happened?

Faerydae crumbled the missive with a loud grunt. That letter contained extremely frustrating and disconcerting news. She ensured her clan's safety in the Wycome valley since before the downfall of Corypheus. Inquisition soldiers even made nice with Duke-whats-his-face. Cullen informed her the Duke gave his word no harm would come to the Dalish while they were near Wycome. Of course, who knows what a duke’s word is worth?

Probably not nearly as much as his underclothes.

Even still, Keeper Deshanna held a seat on the city council. She held some political power. That carried some weight, right? So much for that assurance.

Faerydae rose from her desk in her obnoxiously large quarters and began to pace in front of the entryways leading to the balcony. The sun shining through the open windows seemed to mock her with its cheerfulness. Now she had too much nervous energy and she desperately needed to find a way to release it. This wasn't going to go well. She needed a plan. She also needed to punch something. Or cut something. Either would be glorious.

Her clan was safer in Wycome from bandits and scheming Corypheus allies wanting vengeance for their fallen god. There were still some remaining vindictive, racist arseholes desiring to get even with that knife-ear who had the nerve to stomp down on the new rising Imperium. What better way to do that than slaughter her clan? Eliminate her loved ones and cut her down from her power? Poke holes in her confidence so she no longer causes trouble? Well, Faerydae wasn't going to have that. Not without a fight.

She growled audibly and threw an inkwell against a wall, shattering it and covering the bricks with black.

She may be overreacting a bit.

There wasn’t a good reason to get so troubled about it just yet. The Dalish move around all the time. It was a part of the first 18 years of her life. She has only recently adjusted to being stationary; how could she expect her clan to change their ways just to placate her? Having those expectations is extremely selfish of her and, yet, she did. She didn't want anything to happen to them. She loved them despite leaving them and their way of life.

Keeper Deshanna didn't even give much of an explanation in the short note. It could be anything. They may have misinterpreted what Duke-something-something said. That was a common thing for the Dalish when working closely with humans.

She needed a drink.

Forgetting her remaining administrative duties and other girl-with-the-big-pants responsibilities, the Inquisitor left her quarters in haste in the direction of Herald's Rest.

 

* * *

 

Faerydae passed both Cullen and Josephine as she stormed out of her quarters. She barely took time to observe them, but made some small observations even in her rush to Skyhold's tavern. Josephine stood like a regal beacon in a sea of mediocrity - her back in a straight line, chin lifted from her chest, toes pointed at a perfect 12 o'clock. Her hair was positioned neatly at the base of her head. She spoke animatedly about whatever was the subject of their discussion, the hand holding on to the quill waved through the air in time with her words. On the other hand, Cullen seemed pensive. His posture suggested he was deep in thought. He leaned toward the ambassador, right hand stroking his chin, left hand resting on his hip, listening intently to Josephine. They were both engrossed in whatever they are discussing, eyes fixed on the clipboard forever glued to Josephine's hands. They didn't even stir as Faerydae strode by.

Just as well for her. No need to explain why she was barreling through the great hall like a herd of rams. She wasn’t in the mood to approach them with her problem quite yet. She needed to get slightly drunk first, or maybe even right pissed; let the issue marinate in her brain for the time being. Once she stews on it long enough, she will seek them out.

Why did she remind herself of some jacked up juvenile brimming with teenaged angst?

Maybe drink herself to a drunken stupor, then.

The hall was fairly empty, with the exception of a few nobles wanting to garner just a smidgen of the Inquisition's attention for one reason or another. She scowled at them, hoping they miss her dirty looks so Josie doesn't have to clean up after her later. If they notice, they pay no mind. Good. She hopes they know she doesn't give a right shit about their rich _daddy_  issues. That's for the Council of Heralds in Orlais to sort out.

_Now that's unfair, Fay. They may very well have some worthwhile trouble needing attention._

Pfft. Whatever. The only thing needing her attention at the moment is a spot of Orlesian brandy to drown out this bothersome sense of duty. Never mind it was a work day and it was still  _day_.

She sure was a fantastic leader. She'll drink to that.

She reached the tavern door and pushed it open slightly harder than what was necessary. The tavern was filled with low light, despite the mid-day sun shining outside. Maryden was singing a sweet song, Krem was seated by the door in his usual haunt, and the Iron Bull's voice was way too loud to be coming from one person. The only thing missing was Sera's shrill, half-drunken laughter. Sera was not currently in Skyhold. Something came up with the Red Jennies she wanted to take care of on her own. That girl was growing into her own. Faerydae was worried Sera may even surpass her on the responsible adult scale. Maybe she needed to do some re-evaluation. Definitely for another day.

She saw Dorian, Bull, and Cole seated on the bar stools in front of the counter on the opposite side of the fireplace. Poor Cole was looking at his drink like he was trying to talk to it.

Hell, maybe he was.

As if on cue, he gazed at her through the haze of the tavern. He doesn't wear his hat indoors anymore; it's some remnant of Vivienne's decorum lessons. Faerydae could see his eyes quite clearly despite the fringe of blond hair trying for all the world to cover his face.

Bull and Dorian seemed to be content talking amongst themselves, while Cole wasn’t even trying to pretend to enjoy the drink or the company. She doesn't know if she can cheer him up in the state she is in, but she can at least rescue him from piss passing for a drink around here.

She approached the counter and, without missing a beat, grabbed Cole's mug from under him. He didn’t even blink at her.

"Bull, I don't know why you keep insisting on getting Cole this awful shit. He isn't really fond of drinking. If you would get out of that ginger's tits long enough, you would notice."

Cole laughed softly at her comment. Perhaps she can cheer him up after all. Bull just grunts. "Kid needs it, Boss. He is too uptight. Needs to loosen up."

Well, Faerydae can agree he needs to have a little fun, but she doesn't necessarily think he needs alcohol to do it. She will need to think of something later. He has been brooding around like a dejected apparition for far too long.

_Ha. Ghost. Good one, Fay._

"Bull, your contract ended months ago. I haven't been your boss for a long time. You can call me by my given name."

Bull and his chargers do not work for the Inquisition anymore, technically. However, she knows they are always willing to help out - or slaughter something. Skyhold has become their home base. Now, instead of an employee, Bull is pretty much a freeloader. Faerydae wouldn't have it any other way.

"Faerydae is too big of a mouthful after I have a few drinks, which is all the time. Boss just flows better."

Cole decided to interject then, "She would rather be called Fay." He didn’t turn to Bull, but continued to look at her instead.

Dorian piped up from the other side, "I think our charming Sera already had an answer for that one. What was it again? Oh yes 'Fay sounds too much like Fade and that is just a whole lot of hotness to melt titsicles.' I honestly never quite knew what she meant, though."

Deciding she has worked up enough courage, she gulped down whatever concoction was in the mug. And it was awful. Andraste's balls, who likes this stuff? Oh yeah. _Bull_.

Despite the assault on her palate, the drink has the desired effect. She already felt warmer before she even took a seat next to Cole. He looked directly into her face as she lowered her body next to him. Something appeared to click in his mind. He began to speak without hesitation.

"The stream runs red with their blood. The air fills with the ashes of the remains. A girl cries alone behind a tent, hidden. The black consumes their hearts. You are afraid they are coming for them. Vengeance. Retribution for the knife-ear. "

Of course he would know. She should have figured she couldn't fool him. Not that she really tried. His unease over the grief belonging to others has always moved her. Cole is special in that way. Selfless in spirit, but freaking scary in combat. He is a great friend, but he would be an absolute nightmare enemy. Good thing he liked her.

Instead of trying to be her usual sarcastic self as she is to most people, she was direct and softer with Cole. He has adjusted to her _colorful_ way of speaking over the past few months, as she has also adjusted to his oftentimes cryptic messages. Some expressions and idioms are still too metaphorical in context to grasp right away. It was something they continued to work on, but now was not the time. Faerydae did not want to cause undue distress for her friend because he seemed genuinely concerned for her.

"Yes, Cole. I received some news from my clan. They are leaving Wycome. I am afraid they will be too exposed now."

"But isn't your keeper a chairman on the city council there? Why would they leave?"

Dorian's voice made her jump a bit. That was unexpected. She didn't know the rest of the group was still listening in. Dorian appeared to have caught on to enough; his brows were pinched, his eyes squinting, a grave look thinly veiled his face. She should have known that Dorian would understand. He comes from nobility. He is well versed in the _game_ , and the decision to leave Wycome is a strange move on her clan's part.

"Yes. Which is why it is perplexing news. There has to be a reason."

Dorian lifted one eyebrow almost imperceptibly in thought. He taped his chin and rested his other hand on his lap. He did not display any outward signs of real nervousness, but she saw her news has pained him and ignited his curiosity. "Quite a quandary, indeed."

Faerydae nodded to him darkly and ordered another drink from Cabot. The next one was a little less…excruciating on the way down. She turned to Cole's direction, resting her dangling feet on the neighboring barstool. She brushed the hair out of her face. Strands seem to have gotten stuck in the sweat formed on her forehead. Her long, wavy, black hair is usually styled in a functional folded braid, but she has been letting it down more since she has not been in the field nearly as much as before. It was a relief to her scalp.

Cole was still sitting in the same position, but his eyes dart from her face to the wall and back down to the floor. He still has difficulty with eye contact. Faerydae thought it was endearing and the behavior made her smile faintly.

"Cole, since our Lady Inquisitor so rudely confiscated your drink, perhaps you would care for something else? Perhaps something more appetizing than the vile swill Iron Bull pushes on you." Dorian smirked in Cole's direction. Apparently, everyone's got "Get Cole Smashed" on their agenda. She resolved to attempt a rescue from their persistent friends.

"You don't have to drink anything if you don't want. I know you don't care for the way it makes you feel." And that was true. Cole is really sensitive to the feelings and impressions he gets off other people. She noticed he is especially uncomfortable in crowds. While alcohol quiets these inner voices, Cole would much prefer to feel their full effect than faint vestiges of emotion. Drinking in such a public area would only make his anxiety worse. Perhaps later, when he is with one or two friends. She files that information away for now.

Cole did not respond to either of them. He tilted his head to the side, and with a sanguine expression, simply said, "I want to help." She knows he was referring to her clan. Of course he wanted to help her. He's Cole.

"I am so glad you do. I am not sure if I will need it, but if I do, you will be the first to know." She smiled brightly at him. He returned a smile of his own.

Dorian had already returned to Bull. She and Cole just sat quietly, enjoying each other's company. Faerydae began to feel a little warmer and lighter. This was just what she needed. Taking a deep breath, she slowly pushed herself out of the stool.

"Alright boys. I think I am going to go try to play hero again and figure out what the actual fuck my clan is up to. See you later and thanks for the drink, Cole." With that, she winked at him, and turned to the exit.

She did not see Cole flush on her way out.

* * *

Translations-

Da'lin - little one

aravel ena arla vent u vir mahvir  _-_ The path to home will make itself known, from the Dalish song Suledin

Dar'eth shiral - Safe journeys

Da'vhenan - little heart


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE**

The Inquisitor made her way up the long staircase leading to the fortress entrance. She was feeling much more relaxed now that she released some of that frustration out of her system – or added some alcohol to it was a more accurate description. As she entered, she noticed Cullen and Josephine must have moved their conversation elsewhere. In fact, there were less people in the Great Hall now than there were on her way down. She idly wondered how long she was in the tavern. She supposed the sun changed position.

She moved to check Josephine's office first since it was closer than Cullen's. She stepped through the door and was greeted by the sight of the two of them still deep in discussion, positioned by Josephine's desk in the corner. Faerydae was relieved; at least she doesn't have to go roaming all over Skyhold now. She heard Josephine's voice, thickly laced with a noble's accent, as it usually gets when she is handling business. She laughed to herself. It's not like she has seen much of Josie  _out_  of business mode.

"Your worship, we were just about to send for you. I have received some news that comes from the Free Marches. I am sure you would be interested."

The elf paused without saying a word. Is it possible this news is connected to her clan's abrupt departure from Wycome? She nodded.

"Alright, Josie. Lay it on me."

Josephine gazed down at the letter still attached to her clipboard. Cullen was silent since Faerydae made an appearance and just casually leaned against a chair by the wall.

"I received post this morning from Leliana's agents. It says Duke Antoine of Wycome has –"

"Oh, yes! That's his name!" Faerydae could not help but interject. She had been trying to recall that man's name since the early afternoon. It was also safe to say she was still feeling the effects of her afternoon break.

Josephine blinked at her, trying to recall her place. Faerydae's interruption didn't seem to faze her at all. Her advisors are used to her ways.

"Well, yes, Duke Antoine of Wycome has passed away due to an undisclosed illness. Not only that, but it appears he is not the only one in the city to fall ill. Unfortunately, agents could not gather more information into the nature of this illness at this time but will investigate if your Ladyship wishes."

The Duke who was the Inquisition's contact has suddenly died of a mysterious illness? This had to be connected to the reason her Keeper decided to leave the city.

"Josie, what day did the Duke pass?"

Josephine inspected her paperwork, pinching her face in concentration.

"It says he died two days ago, Inquisitor."

Wonderful. Just abso-freaking-wonderful. Now a ton of ludicrous conspiracy theories were running through her head. Had Keeper Deshanna killed the noble to run off with his wife? Wait, what about the other people in the city. That wasn't going to help at all. Maybe she should have went easier on the mead.

Cullen has still not spoken. Down to business.

"Cullen, when was the last time you received a report from our soldiers stationed at Wycome?"

Cullen shifted his weight to his other foot and looked directly at Faerydae. He breathed in, and sighed deeply, as if resigned to his fate.

"Most of our troops were removed from the city after Corypheus was defeated at the Valley of Sacred Ashes. Our soldiers were repositioned elsewhere. A couple officers remain there, and only for the sake of your clan, Inquisitor."

He paused, as if waiting to be scolded for a supposed wrongdoing. He didn't change his position. Fay felt a little sorry for him.

"Cullen, do not feel the need to defend your decisions to me. I trust you to use your best judgment. I only ask because I received a letter from my keeper yesterday. My clan has left Wycome Valley."

Her commander's face shifted from a look of defense to a look of alarm within a second. Josephine's quick intake of breath signaled her own surprise. Apparently, no one knew what her clan was up to, not even agents of the Inquisition.

Cullen stuttered. "But…Inquisitor…the last I heard from any of the officers was when your Keeper was put on the city council...that was at least two months ago."

Josephine added her own report, her usually steady voice cracking, "The noble allies we have in the Free Marches have not reported any strange activity, your Worship. I'm afraid we have no answers for you."

Her advisors were worried, too. She wasn't just overreacting.

Something was definitely wrong.

"Inquisitor, may I please see the letter from your Keeper? I may be able to see something you didn't."

Josephine was right. Her eye for subtlety may pick up on something. It could give some more information.

She excused herself for a moment to rush up to her quarters. She searched for the crumpled message left forgotten on the floor by her desk, retrieved it, and then headed back to Josephine's office. Once there, she passed the letter to the Ambassador for her to examine. After a moment, Josephine spoke.

"This is rather curious, your Worship. I am not sure I can offer you more insight."

Faerydae sighed. It doesn't make sense that Keeper Deshanna has tried to keep her in the dark. Usually, she would be open to most happenings. She wasn't one for secrets. This was very out of character behavior for Deshanna. Her Keeper probably would have guessed her next course of action. That is the only reason she could think  Deshanna would have left without a real explanation.

"We will have to go there ourselves. It will be the only way to understand the truth."

Cullen's posture stiffened and his eyes narrowed. Josephine verbally cast her objection.

"But Inquisitor, we should have Leliana's agents investigate the matter. They have made an offer for you –"

"No, Josie. I will have to go do this. This involves my family. I won't feel right unless I see to this myself."

Cullen wasn't going give in to her without a fight, "At least take a few of our guards with you. I could even travel to Wycome myself. You shouldn't risk yourself out there. You are too important here."

Faerydae couldn't believe they were still trying to insist she held such a big, important position at Skyhold. There wasn't anything that she does here that her advisors could do just as easily. She felt more useless than anything else.

"I don't want to take a whole squad with me. I want this to draw as little attention as possible for the time being. But beyond that, you know I am little more than a figurehead right now. There isn't anything of great importance I do here. There aren't any events or appearances I must make in the next few weeks. I need to do this."

Her advisors exchanged looks. They appeared as if they wanted to protest, but the elf was finished talking about it. She made up her mind. This was when she was going to put on her big girl pants.

"Look, I know you are both just concerned for me and I love you for it. I get it. You keep insisting I am the leader of this Inquisition, and I am going to use that authority now - I am going, without a squad."

She turned around to go to the door, facing away from them, when she heard Cullen speak in an unusually small voice, "At...at least take someone with you...I can go with you..."

She replied, but did not turn to him.

"Cullen, I need you here. I need both of you here. Unlike me, you still have important work here. You aren't replaceable. I will see if I can find someone you trust to accompany me. I'm preparing tonight and will leave tomorrow. Please let people know, if you feel you must. Come up with a story. Cover my ass, like you always do."

She left the room before she could hear their objections.

* * *

"I would love to help you out, boss, but Krem just heard word of a job. Some pansy nobles need some strong arms to clean up after a feud in Orlais."

Faerydae sighed. She should have known this was going to be harder than she first thought. She can't just up and grab someone at any time to go on some crazy escapade like before. Not a lot of her original companions remained in Skyhold.

"I understand, Bull. You actually have to make a living. I will see you when I get back."

The Iron Bull nodded, smiled, and clapped her shoulder. "Sure thing, Boss." She watched as he crossed over to the other side, leaving Skyhold.

Dorian left to return to Tevinter shortly after their short visit in the tavern yesterday. Sera still hadn't made it back. Cassandra was busy being the Divine and Leliana was assisting her. Vivienne returned to Val Royeaux months ago. Varric went back to his businesses in Kirkwall. Solas practically fell off the planet after the final battle. Blackwall left to actually undergo the Joining and to help the Grey Wardens, wherever they are now. Now, Iron Bull had a job. That only left...

"Cole!"

She should have thought of it before. Cole's swift and stealthy nature makes him perfect for this.

"Yes?"

Fuck! Had she said his name out loud? She jumped back, almost losing her footing, facing the cause of her surprise. She swore she would have drawn her blade, if she had it on her anyway. Yeah, he sure was stealthy.

"Shit, Cole! Andraste's balls. I swear I will never get used to the way you do that!"

Cole tilted his head to the side slightly, in thought.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. But I didn't know about Andraste's balls. I suppose she could have them. I have never seen her naked," Cole deadpaned.

She bit back a laugh she didn't quite catch all the way.

"It's an expression, Cole. I am not actually familiar with Andraste's balls, or anyone's, for that matter."

Cole just raised his eyebrows.

_Well, then. This is embarrassing._

"You know, being Inquisitor can be a real time suck..." _change the subject, Fay_ "Anyway...I would like to take you up on your offer of help. Seems I am heading to Wycome and I am in need of a companion, and you are just the man I need."

_You are so smooth, Inquisitor._

"Ok. I can help." Cole looked at her expectantly.

She really needed to get her mind off of balls.

"Yes, just...uhm...get whatever you want to take with you together. We might be gone a few weeks, depending on what we find when we get there. Meet me back here in an hour and we will take our mounts out."

Cole nodded once and disappeared swiftly. Really interesting he could still do that even being more human now.


	4. Chapter 4

_My favorite chapter so far. The last scene is the one that came to my mind when I heard "When You Sleep" by Mary Lambert. This entire story is built around it. Go to youtube and listen to it, **right**   **now**. Listening to it while I wrote it gave me goosebumps and ALL THE FEELS._

_No sexy time...yet._

* * *

 

**FOUR**

Two days since leaving Skyhold

Location: Frostback Mountains, approximately 1 days journey east of Haven

~~~~ 

His breath was coming out in short pants, colored grey by the frozen temperatures of the mountains. He shivered in his coat. He could feel the cold of his blades across his back. It wasn't uncomfortable because he liked knowing for sure they were within his reach if he needed them. 

Their surroundings were beautiful, but he couldn't help but think of that awful night in Haven all those months ago. He could feel the agony of the victims as the fire burned their bodies and as the corrupted mages took their last moments. It made his eyes water and sting in the cold wind. 

Neither of them said much since leaving Skyhold, other than the occasional request by the Inquisitor - normally something to do with camping for the night or directions from the map. His lungs were burning, so he was grateful for the silence. Even though they weren't really speaking to one another, Cole could hear her worries loud and clear like a war horn. She didn't need words for that.

Before now, they never really had a chance to spend any time alone with each other, not since he helped her the Envy demon in her mind. He used to travel with her, but it would be with a party. There were other people usually filling the silence. Now it was just them...and lots of snow. 

"Cole?" She spoke up from in front of him, riding her sharp-tailed dracolisk. He could barely hear her over the mountain wind.

"Yes, Inquisitor?" he called back from his own golden Nuggalope. He calls her Julie.

Even over the wind, he could hear her huff.

"Oh, Cole. Please call me Fay."

"Sorry. Fay." He replied, only remembering to add the name a few seconds later.

"I think we should stop for the night up at this next clearing. It is getting too cold, plus I think my brain is frozen. That can't be good for my health, or yours."

They stopped a few moments later, securing their mounts to a couple of trees nearby. Silently, they began to set up camp. Cole started a fire while Faerydae assembled the tents. When he was finished with his task, he turned to ask if she needed any help...when she sat down next to him in front of the fire.

"Cole, I think we should share a tent tonight."

Inwardly, Cole choked.  _What?_ Unintentionally, his eyes became as round as saucers. He dropped the stick he was using to poke the fire onto the ground beside him.

Yes, Cole knew what  _sleeping together_  entailed...sort of...He understood the mechanics of it all. He knew  _what_  was supposed to go  _where_. He even thought about it sometimes - what it might be like to  _do it._

Was the Inquisitor...Fay... _propositioning_  him? 

Oh, Maker. How did his palms get so sweaty in this weather?

She was...she made him feel...her eyes were the perfect shade of violet...her soft hands were drawing invisible figures on the ground next to him...her hair was still folded up into her hat, but some stray strands escaped...and he could suddenly smell her so clearly, like wildflowers and something that was all her...

And she smelled  _so good_.

He wanted to touch those stray strands framing her face...

_Heart racing, sweat gathers in my hands, breath has stopped...fire in my chest..._

What is she saying?

"I told you my brain is frozen. Ugh. I just...I think we could be warmer if we shared a tent tonight. Remember how you and Varric used to share a tent sometimes? It could be just like that." 

But Cole knew it would  _not_  be just like that. Varric didn't make him feel like this. 

"But Varric doesn't... isn't...pretty."

She blinked at him, eyebrows shooting up her forehead, a pretty blush coloring her face.

"Yes...uhm...well....I trust you, Cole."

Exhale.

"I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable, I can set up the other tent. It won't take -"

Cole wasn't sure what he was supposed to say; all he knew is he did  _not_  want to sleep in the other tent now. 

"No. No. I...yes. Ok. Yes. We can share."

Silence. She didn't look up at him. She was drawing on the ground with his abandoned stick. He wondered what she was drawing. Her blush was still present, and his heart hadn't slowed down.

"You need to eat, Fay." He ate sometimes, but he still didn't have to as often as everyone else. He didn't think it was physically possible to shove anything down his throat at the moment.

"Oh, yes. Of course. Dinner. Yes." She coughed into her hand, and then practically ran to the sack containing the rations. 

Dinner consisted of dried meat and fruit for Faerydae. Cole turned down any offers for food. 

After she ate, and he watched her eat, they decided it was about time to turn in for the night.

They retreated to the tent together. She climbed in first and he followed closely behind her. He never realized how small these tents were until now. They both unrolled their sleep mats and situated them on opposite sides of the tent. He began to unlace his boots and she started to take off her outer armor and lay it in a neat pile next to her. They didn't remove all their protective clothing; it was not only awkward but also way too cold to sleep in small clothes.

Once he sat down on his mat, he felt brave enough to turn to her. She loosened her hair and it flowed freely down her back, past her shoulder blades. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair.

She cleared her throat.

"Ok. Cole, I am absolutely freezing my ass off. Short of sleeping in full armor, there isn't much else we can do. So...scoot over here." She patted the space between them. He carefully stepped off of his mat and brought it closer to her. It was almost touching hers. 

She lay down without another word, her back facing him. He lay on his side, facing her back. He had never been more aware of another person's presence in his entire life. He carefully placed his arms in front of him, heedful not to touch her accidently.

But he could really smell her now and the scent filled his lungs and made his head heavy. He felt the fire in his chest again. He wanted to reach out and touch her hip with hand and bring her closer to him. He wanted her warmth against him. He wanted to bury his face in her long locks, cover himself with her scent until it consumed him, but he stopped himself. He knew it wasn't...appropriate.

He could hear her soft breathing like a lullaby, making his lids heavy and forcing them closed. Behind them, he could see a beautiful elf standing in front of him, long black hair falling around her shoulders, big violet eyes gazing at him, lips parted, breath heavy in her chest. He could feel her fingers dance across his jaw, feel them softly touch his bottom lip, see her lips approach his face.

The feeling of her body next to his comforted him immensely. He found it easier to fall asleep than ever before, and he never slept much. He had one last thought before he drifted off...and he said it aloud, under his breath, without thinking. His voice was as soft as a ghost whispering in the night, almost as if he hadn't said anything at all. 

"You smell so sweet...so beautiful."

With that, he slipped away. 

But Faerydae was still awake and suddenly her eyes were wide open.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Warning: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of violence. I will separate the more gruesome parts with dividers so those who want to can skip them. This entire chapter can be skipped if necessary. I will summarize the important developments next chapter. :)_ **

**__**Note: The conversation between Cole and the Inquisitor during the post-final battle celebration actually happened in the game - but I made some (small) changes for the sake of the story. His reply is almost exactly the same, word for word. It can be triggered if you chose to make Cole more human, but I think only if you don't take him to fight Corypheus. Not 100% sure.** _ _ **

* * *

 

**FIVE**

The sun was high in the sky before Faerydae finally rose to begin the day. It was probably around noontime and she was still feeling extremely groggy. She did not know what time she finally fallen asleep last night after a fair amount of tossing and turning. The elf laid awake most of the night thinking about the extremely strange circumstances of the previous day. With her decision to share a tent with Cole, to his reaction to her request, and then finally what he said last night under his breath before falling asleep next to her, it was all very bizarre. She still did not know for certain what he actually said, much less what he meant by it. He was sleeping; he could have just been sputtering nonsense.

She smelled... _beautiful_? What did that mean?

She had to be imagining things. Cole didn't even have feelings for people like that...at least the last she heard. She didn't exactly keep up to date on his romantic conquests, or lack of. She just assumed…

She thought back to the last night they even talked about the prospect of Cole being involved with someone...

_It was after the final defeat of Corypheus. They were all celebrating back at Skyhold. Fay was making small talk with everyone. She reached Cole last. By then, people had been getting a little drunker and a lot louder. There were more people in the hall than she expected. Cole made his way to the back corner of the room, drifting apart from the rest of the crowd._

_Cole made an observation to her when she approached, "I...see them. Drinking. Some lying down."_

_Fay, probably a bit too pissed to be having this conversation with Cole, replied impishly "Do you wanna join ‘em?" She grinned widely at him and nudged his side with her elbow._

_Cole seemed to seriously consider her question. She didn't expect that. If anything, she expected him to ask some question about what she meant by “joining” them, or what he was supposed to do, or even if she is drunk and needed to go to bed (he did that once at the tavern after a particularly fun night of Wicked Grace and equally wicked ale). After a moment, he answered, "I don't know. It's complicated. I don't think I am ready. Someday, maybe."_

_Someday, maybe._

The phrase repeated in her head.

He wasn't ready then. Faerydae didn't even think that way of him then, anyway. If she was honest, she still didn’t. She was just teasing him, like one would do their friends. She never really thought about Cole actually having those feelings, actually _falling in love_ with someone and wanting to _be with_ them. Or even just skipping the love part and heading straight for the four poster.

Cole was, unsurprisingly, up and about already. He gathered healing herbs in the nearby hills and was wrapping them neatly and putting them into one of the sacks. He was sitting on a rock outside the tent, carefully tucking the herbs into the folds of the wrap. He looked more pensive than anything else. Faerydae wondered if he remembered much about the night before.

“Cole?”

Cole stopped his task for a moment and looked up at her. He seemed indifferent to her company. “Yes, Fay?”

Faerydae cleared her throat, but still couldn’t think of anything to say. Finally, she had to look away from him. The sight of him suddenly became overwhelming and she didn’t want to give that away. Uneasily, she picked at her fingernails and swayed slowly side to side. By the Creators, she _wasn’t_ nervous.

“I…uhm…Good morning.”

_What?_

She stared at her nails, cleaning the dirt from beneath them. She was willing away the blush that was threatening to cover her face. Completely, totally, absolutely, _not at all_ nervous. Not. At. All.

_What the actual bloody fuck is wrong with you?_

“It is actually the afternoon, but yes, it is good.”

Cole stood from the rock and started over in the direction of the mounts. She supposed he wanted to check on Julie. She followed behind him, feeling like she needed to say something.

“I would like to get to the Coast within the next few days. We can go through Crestwood to get more supplies and rest on something other than the ground…ermm…”

_Can you at least complete a sentence around him? Sweet Maker’s tits._

“Ok. I wonder if I remembered to ask the kitchen maid to feed the cats. They will get lonely.”

He is was definitely acting like the same old Cole. He was even affectionately petting Julie and giving her dracolisk treats. That settled it. She must've been dreaming last night. That was it. In fact, yesterday was all just a figment of her imagination. Cole wasn’t… _sexual_. There, she thought it. Even the thought alone was mortifying. He just seemed so innocent, too pure to have such dirty urges like the rest of them. Funny, she thinks of him as pure when he is an outright _assassin_.

Remembering too late who she was traveling with, she hoped Cole didn’t catch her thought. He seemed content having a conversation with the mounts.

She was way overthinking this.

She heard him say one sentence before untying the mounts.

“I am not a kid.”

Her blush matched the Bloodstone shield on her back. Oh, Creators, he heard her.

No more sharing a tent with Cole.                                                                                               

Later, they rode through the mountains in silence, again.

Faerydae was trying to collect her thoughts. She didn’t want Cole to pick up on a stray one again. However, the more she tried to concentrate on not thinking about it, the more she actually _thought_ about it. It was like some awful prank the universe decided to play on her. On top of that, she was dead tired, so she couldn’t even muster up the energy to edit herself. It was a headache – a literal headache.

Hours later, they finally came across the Imperial Highway that would take them to the edge of Ferelden. Finally, it felt like they were actually going somewhere. They only left Skyhold three days ago and she was absolutely fucking sick of the snow.

She started to relax again, knowing Crestwood was not too much further, when suddenly she felt a pressure on her boot. She jumped in her saddle and was surprised to see Cole, dismounted and leaning toward the ground. She started to ask him what he was doing, and where the hell was Julie, when she saw his pointer finger cover his lips in an attempt to silence her. When she shut her mouth, he beckoned her off the dracolisk, slowly and quietly. The mount went into the trees lining the road, out of sight, like it already knew what was coming. Cole brought her low to the ground and then led her into nearby brush. He finally explained himself.

“There are Templars ahead and they stink of corruption. Too many to take head on. I am going to take a few down from behind quietly before they notice. Wait for me and then hit them from the front and I will back you up.”

She was bewildered. They were going to kill some Templars on the road? Cole had never been one to attack first and ask questions later.

“Cole, we can’t just kill them. We have to know their intentions first.” But he had an answer for her.

“I know their intentions. Their souls glow with the dark and they want blood, death, madness. We have to kill them or they will kill us.”

_Red Templars?_

_Here?_

He answered her silent question before she could voice it.

“Yes. You said last night you trusted me. _Trust me now_.”

Fucking. Shit.

She nodded and he indicated with his hands for her to stay where she was and watch for him. She grabbed her ax and shield loose from their bindings and prepared for his signal.

She watched from about 30 feet away, still situated behind the bushes. Cole disappeared in midair. She couldn’t see where he went.

* * *

 

Suddenly, she saw the Templar trailing the furthest back from the group was dead on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood. He didn’t make a sound. Another dropped just as quickly, and then two more in succession. The other Templars did not notice their fallen comrades.

She almost forgot how fucking _scary_ Cole is.

When the last dropped to her knees with a gasp, no sound coming out, hand covering her throat soaked in blood, Cole reappeared.

**“NOW!”**

Quick count, that left seven of them for her and Cole to take on together. Much easier than twelve, but still a challenge.

Good thing she wasn’t out of practice.

Before the other Templars had time to react, she hastily moved from her position without missing a beat. She ran directly for the nearest one, raising her axe over her head, and thrusting it down, shattering their skull with a loud crunch. Blood and brain matter spattered all over shield. She felt more powerful than she felt in months.

She swiftly turned and bashed the next Templar from the front with her bloody shield. They went flying back, landing headfirst on a rock, breaking their neck and killing them instantly. At the same time, she swung her axe horizontally in the air at another, severing their head from their neck. Their bloody corpse fell back in a heap on the ground, their head spun through the air leaving a shower of crimson in its wake.

Most of them were dead before they even knew what happened to them.

Cole and Faerydae were a dangerously efficient team.

She paused in her gory mess to see where Cole went. He killed another two, leaving just two more to deal with. These ones were really angry and were more prepared than before.

She swung her axe again, but this time her move was blocked by an enemy shield. She was hit on her shoulder, but her heavy armor protected her from severe trauma. Still bloody hurt. While she was reeling from the strike, Cole thrust his twin daggers into the Templar’s back. The Templar was down.

One more to go.

Faerydae lunged at them, spinning around and flanking them in their waist. They staggered back, bled out quickly, and then collapsed on the ground, a look of surprise still carved on their face.

She had never been more thankful for Bull’s drills than she was now.

She was injured, and they were both covered head to toe in strangers’ blood, but they were alive.

* * *

 

“What in the name of Maker’s pants was that?!” She looked down at the body next to her. The corpse still appeared to be surrounded by a red aura. She saw a clearly glowing red flask that dislodged itself from a belt resting on the ground. Red lyrium. She crushed it hard with her boot.

Cole looked at her with sympathy and concern and touched her uninjured shoulder gently, “Fay. Are you alright?”

She was still shaking from adrenaline and fighting back frustrated tears threatening to leave her eyes. The Red Templars weren’t supposed to be an issue anymore. The Inquisition  cut off every supply chain they ran into, from the Storm Coast to the Hissing Wastes. She destroyed all the major deposits Varric indicated on her map. The Inquisition  cut off access to the deposits in Emprise de Lion and let the dwarves work to get the tainted lyrium out of the land. Most of the remaining Red Templars were sacrificed at the Temple of Mythal by Calpernia. There were supposed be hardly any left to reorganize.

“Fuck no, Cole. I am far from alright. This is really, really bad. They were just strolling through here, on one of Ferelden’s main roads, like it was no big deal. And there were just twelve of them here. We didn’t even think there were many left after the Temple of Mythal! Where the hell did they come from and why are they here?”

Cole didn’t answer her. He just took her into his arms and held her until her tremors stopped.

__


	6. Chapter 6

**_Note: Thank you guys so much for reading my story, leaving kudos, leaving love, etc. It really touches me. I am FAR from a professional writer but I really enjoy the art. Thank you for appreciating this monster of a plot bunny that got away from me. O_O *hugs*_ **

**_I hope you continue to like it because it is nowhere near finished. As always, suggestions, corrections, and comments are appreciated._ **

* * *

****

**SIX**

Death and decay surrounded him, and yet all he could see was _her_.

She hadn’t realized it, but tears were beginning to gather in her eyes just then. He wanted to wipe them away with his thumb but didn’t want to draw attention to them. He didn’t want to make her feel even worse. Instead, he just drew her into his arms, resting his chin on top of her head. She was so small, so delicate, yet she emanated incredible strength. Her light shined brighter than the sun; drawing people in from across the world. She almost blinded him. She was the most powerful person he ever knew, and yet she cared for everyone. She cared for all people.

He noticed she never used words like _shem_ or _qun_ or _dwarf,_ unless she had to use them to describe someone. She didn’t even use them in her head. People were just people. He observed that this is what set her apart from most of the Dalish.

_She didn’t care she was Dalish, and she cared even less if you weren’t._

She didn’t care who you were, or where you came from, or what you did in your past. She was so forgiving. She was so loving. She was so _compassionate_.

He drank her in and she quenched his thirst like a dying man in the Western Approach.

Even over the smell of death, her scent was so intoxicating.

She stopped shaking and pulled away from him. Fay looked into his eyes like he held all the answers to life’s mysteries. She carried the heaviest weight and she was just wanting another arm to help lug it around with her.

“Cole, what shit have we stepped in now?”

He didn’t really have a helpful reply for her. “Take one down and three more appear in its place. Never-ending. Loud, shattering, fear eats away at them. Teeth sinking into their hearts, souls sinking into the pit. Gone. I am sorry, Fay.”

How was he supposed to tell her the efforts to eliminate the red lyrium were in vain? It didn’t matter how much she fought it, it was already out here, used to this place and wanted to conquer, and now it would never, _ever_ leave. He desired to help, but more than that, he didn’t want to break her heart.

He whistled for the mounts he sent hiding into the forest. They both appeared a few seconds later and he looked them over to make sure they didn’t have any injuries. Fay stood with head down staring at the flask she destroyed on the ground. He grabbed her hand then to bring her back to the present. She looked up at him, shocked, but then moved to get on Jack, her dracolisk, or that is what he called him, at least. He mounted Julie. She began leading them down the road without a word, leaving the corpses of the Red Templars behind.

* * *

 

They stayed that way for a long time, following the road northeast to Crestwood. Eventually, they had to stop and make camp again. It was considerably warmer here than it was the previous night, so Fay set up both tents while he started the fire. They fell into a routine that worked for them while also providing them with some semblance of security. They both sat around the fire in silence, Fay eating, Cole watching. When cold drops of rain started to fall around them, they both went to their respective tents.

Cole didn't sleep at all. He laid on his mat, hands behind his head, staring up at the canvas above him, listening to the pitter patter of the rain. He thought about what happened today, how he killed for the first time in months and didn't feel anything for it. He felt empty. He hasn't really felt this way since becoming more human. Normally, he had a melting pot of emotions flowing through him at any one time.

Now, there was nothing.

There were times he wanted to tell Fay who he really was – what he really was. He thought if there was anyone on this side of the Fade who would understand, it would be her. He wanted to admit that he was a murderer – serial killer; that he used to be a demon who killed so he could feel real. He used to watch the life fade from his victim’s eyes so he could feel his own hold on reality gather strength. Sometimes he wanted to come clean because he wanted someone to accept who he is, and who he used to be. He craved to be accepted for all he was. To be _remembered_.

Someone did remember him.

He thought about the letter they had written to Fay last year.

_"I know many of these poor creatures meant no harm to this world, and were drawn into it against their will, corrupted through no fault of their own into something dangerous._

_I once called such a creature my friend. I lost him in the rebellion, and never had the chance to offer forgiveness for the mistakes he made, or help him find his way back safely into the Fade."*_

_Rhys remembers._

_What would he think of me now?_

* * *

 

The silence was becoming oppressive and uncomfortable now. They had been traveling for hours in the rain. It was miserable. The air bordering Lake Calenhad made it impossible to stay warm. There was an overcast sky and it seemed to paint the whole world grey. He shivered.

They both knew the villagers of Crestwood were well acquainted with the Inquisition. Fay really wanted to pass through with as little attention as possible. He noticed she removed her helmet and let down her hair in an attempt to appear more casual.

They finally approached the North Gate at Crestwood. The surrounding rocks and cliffs seemed to block the chill coming off the lake. Cole was relieved. Sometimes being human and being surrounded by all this sensory feedback was overwhelming.

They continued southeast on the road toward the village. While Inquisition forces still occupied Caer Bronach, it didn’t function as well as a stronghold anymore. Most supplies would be available in the village instead.

They passed by the market, where they stopped to purchase more healing potions and other tonics. Fay had to use some for her injured shoulder the night before. They also weren’t sure if they would encounter more Red Templars, but they wanted to be prepared for the worst. Neither of them really wanted to imagine what “the worst” might be.

After that, they went to the small inn near the entrance of town. It was built after the Inquisition restored Crestwood to its former glory. It had definitely grown since the darkspawn were eradicated. More people stopped through here on their way to Denerim or to cross the Waking Sea. Fay purchased a small room with two single beds. The innkeeper didn’t seem to recognize her and Fay was visibly relieved. She left the room to gather more supplies from town. Cole spent the time resting. He was feeling curiously tired now.

* * *

 

Faerydae was resting comfortably in her bed when she was awaken by a sound resonating through the quiet darkness. She took a moment to adjust to her surroundings, listening for the soft noise that roused her from her sleep. After a moment, she heard it again.

It was a cry in the night. It was a faint plead for some invisible force to spare them heartbreak. It was coming from the direction of Cole’s bed.

“Em…no…Em…so sorry…Bunny…please don’t tell…”

Faerydae climbed out of her sheets and soundlessly made her way over to Cole’s side. She could hardly make out his features, but she could see by the dim light emanating from the window that his face was contorted into the shape of anguish, wet lines running down his cheeks. Impulsively, her hands reached out to wipe the tears from his face. He woke with a start. She could feel his heart pounding and see the pulse increase in his neck.

“What? What’s happening? Fay?”

She carefully climbed onto the bed next to him and placed her hand over his chest. Most of his face was still obscured by shadows, but she could see him. His eyes were filled with old pain overflowing. Tears were still spilling out and falling down his tormented face. She rubbed circles on his chest and stroked his pale blond hair with her fingers.

“You were having a nightmare about someone named Em and a rabbit, I think. But it’s ok now. It’s over.”

She intended to sooth him, but her words seemed to open a dam instead. He let out a choked, agony laced sob. His body began to shake harder and strain under the weight of his pain. Despair poured out of him. She held to him and he held to her like she was his lifeline – like he would drown if she ever let him go.

And then on that dark night in Crestwood, he finally spoke of his life’s greatest regret.

“Emeline…Emeline, my sister. I used to call her Bunny.”

 

* * *

 

**_Yep…I’m going there, folks._ **

*From the report received at the end of the war table mission "Deploy Rhys and Evangeline" in DA:I.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Warning: This chapter is very, very dark. It mentions past child abuse and murder through the eyes of a victim. It is really awful and disturbing, but I don’t think I go into as much detail about it as Asunder. It still could be potentially triggering._**

* * *

 

**SEVEN**

_“Emeline…Emeline, my sister. I used to call her Bunny.”_

Sister? Cole has a sister? She didn’t recall him ever mentioning any sort of family. In fact, he never talked about his life before the Inquisition.

Faerydae was trying to whisper comforting words to him, softly running her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, hoping that would help him feel safe again. Oh Creators, she just wanted him to feel safe again.

But she wasn’t prepared for the conversation she was about to have. Nothing could have prepared her for this night, not even her worst nightmares.

“I didn’t know you had a sister, Cole.” She said simply, trying to chat casually to distract him. She was shit at comforting people.

“I don’t anymore.”

Shit. Well, that wasn’t the direction she wanted to go with that.

Awkwardly stumbling over her error, she expressed her regret, “Oh…I’m so sorry, Cole. I didn’t know...”

He still cried, biting onto his bottom lip until it bled, staring off into the space in front of him. He exhaled unsteadily, “I didn’t either.”

Faerydae didn’t understand what he meant by that but she didn’t want to ask any more questions right now. She just hoped he would talk about it…maybe she could help him. She got her wish. He spoke fast, but softly and _oh so like_ Cole. She had to strain to hear him.

“Empty wine bottles scattered, broken on the floor, cuts on hands and knees from crawling on glass, she screams, covers her face, _‘Please, not Cole. Don’t hurt Cole_ ’ weeping, then nothing. Blood pools by the cabinet…he calls ‘ _Cole, you little bastard! Think you can hide forever?’…_ Em cries for Mama, runs to her, stains her yellow dress red _..._.I had to move her…her stuffed rabbit dropped, left forgotten in the blood… _’Maker take you and your foul magic!’…_ she was so scared. I don’t want to die. _”_

A sharp intake of breathe was her only reply. She was too shocked to do anything else. Was…was Cole describing his own memory to her? He continued, voice pitched in terror.

“We…we had to go into the cabinet. We were hiding from Papa. He was hurting Mama…he was killing her…Em kept crying and she wouldn’t stop _…_ she wouldn’t stop…but I don’t want to die…She dropped her rabbit and she needed it…but Mama told us to hide but she wouldn’t stop…‘ _Come out and die like a man! You’ll pay the same price she did!’_ …I had to cover her mouth with my hand. She was so little and I was too big, too strong, she couldn’t breathe... I’m so sorry, Bunny. I was supposed to die, not you…I killed you and I am so sorry”

While he was tearing open old wounds, Faerydae had lifted him from his supine position on the bed until he sat up with her hoping it was easier for him to draw in air. She held him tightly to her and he put his weight on her. His knees were bent and both hands clutched her arm that enveloped him so tightly it was going numb. Mucus accumulated on her tunic. She didn’t care. She was crying now, too.

“But I didn’t let him hurt anyone anymore. I stopped him. I dug Mama’s dagger out from the yard and sunk it deep into his chest. I watched the blood spew from his mouth and I was _glad_. I sat on top of him, held the dagger before his eyes, showing him that it was _me_ who was murdering him – that I stopped him. I wanted him to beg for his life, like Mama begged for mine.”

Cole was shaking violently, tears still pouring out of his blue eyes and down his gaunt face, collecting on the bedspread, blood dripping from mutilated lip down his chin. He started to choke; he couldn’t breathe. He leaned forward over her arm toward the edge of the bed, and then he vomited what little dinner he had eaten onto the floor, like he was trying to exorcise the demons in him. She stroked his back, whispering soothing sounds, willing him to inhale for her. She didn’t think it was helping, be she was trying anyway, gripping to whatever bits of comfort she had to offer him.

He shrieked in misery “Why am I still alive? I was supposed to die! _Why am I still here?!_ ”

Faerydae was at a loss of what to do, other than cry with him. And she did. The room smelled like dirty leathers and sweat and sick, but she held on to Cole and cried with him. She felt all his agony, all his heartbreak, all his guilt, all his shame. He let it all out for her to see, spread out like a buffet, and she took it in. But she felt so helpless and so useless. She couldn’t stop his pain. She couldn’t help him. All she could do was shed more tears for him until her eyes ran dry.

“I had magic and Papa hated magic. Priests told him magic was the curse of The Maker. I…couldn’t control my magic…I caught the shed on fire when I couldn’t find Spice, our kitten. I just wished the shed was gone so I could see her easier, and then it was on fire. He found me…that was the day…the day…” he couldn’t keep going.

Cole was a mage? But, he…he never performed magic. In all the time she had known him, his primary choice of weapon was a blade. It sounds like he was describing himself as a hedge mage. He couldn’t have been made Tranquil…he still accessed the Fade… she would have to come back to this later.

Faerydae was incredibly glad that Cole killed his father already. If she found out he was still alive, she would have hunted him and killed him with her bare hands.

They cried together for what felt like hours. She poured her words out with her whole heart, all the feeling she had she pushed forward; she wanted him to feel it, to _know_.

“Please, Cole. Please. I want you here. I need you here with me. Please believe me. Please stay with me.”

She did need him. He was so special and kind and odd and terrifying and strong and bright and _beautiful._ He was covered in snot and blood and tears and vomit and he was the most lovely thing she had ever beheld in her entire life. At that moment, with his broken heart ripped open and bleeding, he was more beautiful than all the trees in the Emerald Graves. He was more stunning than Skyhold after trekking miles through the snow, cold and homeless. He was more magnificent than her mark the first time she sealed a rift. He was brighter than the sun.

She wanted nothing more than to carry this awful weight for him. She wanted to wear it like armor to protect him from the pain. She wanted his burdens for herself so he wouldn’t have to suffer another second.

But she couldn’t.

She couldn’t make him forget.

So she just held him.

She heard a knock on the door and an irritated voice made its way over to her. They must have been too loud. The Innkeeper had come to check on them.

“Hello. Is everything ok in there? You could wake all of Fereldan the way you are carrying on in there.”

Telling Cole she would be right back, she laid him back, resting his head on his pillow.

She walked to the front of the room and responded through the closed door, not wanting to expose Cole to anyone else, “I am sorry. Had a bit of a nightmare but everything is ok now. We will try to be quiet.” She heard a grumble and footsteps retreating down the hall. They were alone again.

She turned back to Cole, who was still lying on his back, but his eyes were closed now and his breathing even. He seemed to have exhausted himself and fallen asleep again.

She wet a rag in the water basin and cleaned his face gently so she didn’t wake him. After that, she cleaned his sick from the floor and then threw away the dirty rag.

She climbed back into the bed beside him. Somewhere in her mind she knew she shouldn’t but she needed to be near him. She needed to feel his heartbeat and watch his chest rise and fall in time with his breath. She needed him. She didn’t want to question her feelings right then. She lowered her head and settled it into the crook of his neck, closing her eyes and letting the sounds of his heart lull her to sleep. Placing a chaste kiss to his temple, she whispered her own lullaby into his ear _“Melava somniar, mala tara aravas, ara ma’desen melar, tel’enfenim, dalen, irassal ma ghilas, ma garas mir renan, ara ma’athlan vhenas…”_ Faerydae followed Cole into sleep soon after.

* * *

 

That was how he found them the next morning. They were a tangle of limbs, with her head still buried in the curve between his neck and shoulder, her soft breathing still tickling his ear. His memory was fuzzy, images from the night before shifting through his mind but never settling to render a clear picture. His eyes hurt and his lip was sore. He noticed he had dried blood on his fingertips.

He shifted in the bed so that her head was resting on the pillow, giving him a better angle to look at her. Her face was tear stained and her eyes were surrounded by dark circles. Even though she was sleeping, she looked like she never had enough rest in her life.

Her long hair was tangled in his arm. That made him smile.

It was starting to come back to him. Fay had woken him from a nightmare. She held him while he cried.

Then he told her his deepest, darkest secret… The secret that ate away at his soul…that he smothered his sister.

He remembered _her_ …Emeline, his baby sister. He…used to not remember her.

He called her Bunny because of that rabbit she always had with her. He remembered her pretty blonde hair that was too thin and bright blue eyes, just like his. He remembered the yellow dress she was always so proud of. He remembered how tiny her body was when he would carry her to bed after she fell asleep outside.

He still couldn’t remember his mother. Sometimes he wished he could recall her face, but most of the time he was happy to forget because it hurt less. The smell of lavender fields always reminds him of her, though.

And he never, _ever_ wanted to remember his father…

Emeline was only 5 years old when she died.

He was only 12 years old when he became a murderer.

But Fay didn’t reject him. She held him tighter, cried with him, soothed his wounded heart, and then slept with him.

_I want you here, Cole. I need you. Please believe me._

For the first time that he could remember, since dying in the Spire dungeons with the spirit of compassion holding his hand as he passed… he didn’t feel alone. He had her.

He felt human.

He felt real.

* * *

**_Emeline is a name I came up with. Cole only mentions “Bunny” in Asunder, but I thought it sounded more like a nickname. Spice the kitten is also mine. There was a pitiful little kitten in Cole’s nightmare, so I named her and incorporated her into the story as well. :P_ **

**_Translations:_ **

**_The Dalish lullaby she sings to him says “Time to dream, your mind journeys, but I will hold you here. Never fear, little one, wherever you shall go. Follow my voice –I will call you home.”_ **

 


	8. Chapter 8

**_Taking a short break from Colemance to move the main plot along. :) Stay tuned!_ **

**_Also, Rhys and Evangeline~_ **

* * *

 

_Meanwhile, in the Hinderlands, near the abandoned fortress of Ostagar…_

Evangeline was sitting on the comfortable chair in the front room of her cabin, twirling a lock of her dark hair on her finger, more than immersed in a new book she purchased from the Courier in the village a few days prior. The fire in the hearth was warm and there was a delicious scent coming from the pot of soup that she was heating up. It was all very cozy and comfortable.

She should have known it wouldn’t last long.

She had just reached a provoking chapter when she heard the timid knock at the front door. They never got visitors; hardly anyone knew they were there. She liked it that way. They were too far from Redcliffe road for most wandering strangers, but still close enough to the village to make a trip if necessary.

When she opened the door, she was surprised to find a boy, aged about 16 years, standing in front of her. He was dressed in plain clothes. They were not beggar’s clothing, but the sort of attire a servant who was well provided for would wear.

He barely spoke at a volume higher than the breeze that gusted by them, “Ser Evangeline de Brassard?”

She eyed him curiously. It appeared that he traveled an awful long way to hand deliver a letter. It was odd. Most nobles wouldn’t bother.

“Yes. Would you like to come in and rest? Perhaps I can get you some water or tea? I am also cooking up some ram meat and vegetables that I will be glad to share with you.”

The boy’s widened in fear then. She wondered what must be so important in the letter he would be so scared to fail at his mission.

“No…no thank you, ser. I am to hand you the letter and then leave the area as soon as possible.”

That meant that he wasn’t to be seen with her. The whole situation was getting more suspicious by the moment.

“Very well. Thank you.” She took the missive from his hand and he quickly retreated down the path out of the forest without a goodbye.

The letter was curious; there wasn’t a seal or signature on it. It was just a blank envelope.

She opened it and immediately recognized the scrawl flowing across the top. It was Anne-Laure Gascony. The handwritten script was followed by an official looking document, penned neatly in fine ink. However, there wasn’t a symbol on the document to indicate its origin. Just then she heard someone approach her from behind.

“Who was that?” Rhys asked her. He was covered in dirt and his filthy hands gave way the fact that he had been working in the garden. His staff was abandoned by the back door leading to the yard.

“It was a servant of the House of Gascony. He came to deliver a letter to me.”

Rhys eyed the letter from over her shoulder. “Seems too plain to come from a noble.”

Evangeline knew that. The simplicity was an effort to conceal the true intentions of the writer from watchful eyes. That was what was troubling her. “He also told me he was instructed to give me the letter and then leave promptly. He wasn’t to stay and risk being seen.”

There was no reason to keep in suspense. She began to read the message.

_Dear, I know you will recognize my writing so there is no need to identify myself. I received this letter yesterday and it was very troubling to me. I do not know of anyone else I would trust with this information. I hope you would know what to do with it. They already have the support of several colleagues of mine and I have heard they have even more throughout the Free Marches, as well as Orlais and Ferelden. An acquaintance of mine was rumored to be involved with this organization and he recently passed away even though he was perfectly healthy. I suspect it is related. Please exercise caution._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Nobleman,_

_You have been contacted because you inquired as to the purpose of our humble group and have shown potential as a benefactor. We will be glad to offer you an answer along with a proposition. You are privy to this information because you, being one of the leaders of Thedas, are worthy of its support._

_We are known as the Liberators of the Dark. We are a branch of the Templar order that has formed as a result of the dreadful chaos caused by the mage rebellion and the death of our Divine Justinia._

_Our goal is to rid the world of the evil influence of magic and the mages who weld it. They have been granted too much autonomy for far too long and their influences have nearly destroyed our world. We must recognize that enchanters are much too dangerous to be given the sort of freedoms they will enjoy in the new Circles under Divine Victoria._

_The recent darkspawn Magister, The Elder One, is proof enough of this. The magic he had used was a true atrocity. The Venatori mages under his employ were just as treacherous. If it weren’t for the elf Inquisitor, along with the brave loyal Templars by her side, it would be very doubtful that the world as we know would even exist any longer._

_We seek to put an end to these risks. We seek to right this wrong. We seek to do what the Maker had meant for Templars to do all along – protect the innocent._

_We are not saying that we would want to kill mages; that is not our purpose. Our purpose to protect them from themselves, if this means the rite of Tranquility or captivity. The result is the same – the mages and their magic are under control and therefore couldn't cause harm to innocents. This Circle of Magi and the Chantry failed and will fail again. They have proved how well they can be trusted._

_If you are interested in our cause, do not try to contact us. We will be able to reach you well enough._

_Regards,_

_The Abolisher_

Evangeline was visibly shaking by the time she reached the end of the note. The Templar order and Circle of Magi was expected to solve this problem. She expected it was naïve of her to believe that Divine Victoria’s new proclamations would have meant peace between mages and Templars. The misunderstandings were too ingrained and distrust was too well earned on both sides. There will truly be no end to this madness.

Rhys, observing her reaction, seized the letter from her hands out of concern and read it for himself. It didn’t help much – he had a similar reaction.

“This…is just some hinge sect reacting to the new Divine. She has threatened the status quo…”

Evangeline disagreed with her lover. While it was true there were rumors of groups coming together to demand the restoration of the old ways, they were mostly harmless and had no real power. But this…this group already had supporters. They had prominent nobleman in their pockets. If Anne-Laure is correct in her assertion that her colleague’s death was related to these “Liberators”, this could be a real threat to peace. They had manpower.

They needed to be investigated.

“Rhys, I think it is more than that. Their network may already be more extensive than we think.” Her words were dripping with dread.

“Alright. Let’s say that they do. What can we do about it? Why did your friend send it here?”

Before he even had to mention it, she could tell Rhys was already trying to talk her out of investigating for herself. She grinned at him and tenderly ran her fingers through his salt and pepper hair. It was so unfair how men could become more distinguished with age. He was so handsome but there were new lines on his face, deepened due to the suffering he has to endure. Having a best friend betray you, watching the woman you love die before your eyes and then only to get her back at the expense of the life of the mother you barely knew. That doesn’t even include Cole, the boy Rhys cared so deeply for. But he wasn’t really a boy at all. He was a demon, or some strange abomination of one. Demons could not be friends with mages. It was too dangerous. That didn’t stop Rhys from caring. It didn’t stop her from caring, either. She may have a rougher exterior than Rhys. She may even be harsher than him, but she couldn’t deny that Cole had dug a way into her heart. The images from his nightmare still haunt her to this day. Sometimes, she wonders what actually happened to him down in those sewers when he vanished. She will probably never know. She did know they would both always have a soft spot for the creepy man-demon.

“Evangeline…I can see your wheels turning.”

“Rhys, you know what we have to do.” It was simple. They had to go.

“Do you remember what happened last time we tried to investigate some rogue Templars? Those crazed red lyrium monsters almost killed us. We might not have the Inquisition to come to our rescue this time.”

She looked at him, her eyes clearly displaying her determination. “Anne-Laure risked her life sending this to us. If the Liberators learn she reached out to someone, they could kill her. We have to at least go and make sure she is safe. We won’t visit her or anything – just check around, make sure everything is secure up there, then _maybe_ look into this Templar thing.”

He groaned deeply, closing his eyes and leaning his head back to face the ceiling. “Of course we do.”

She was losing her patience now.

“Well, what else would you suggest we do?”

Rhys had a ready answer for her. “We take this to the Inquisition and let them handle it. They have the resources for this. Our team is made up of exactly one apostate and a disgraced ex-Templar. We don’t have a chance, especially if this thing is as big as you think. Plus, I’m getting too old for this.” He said it so easily, like it was the most obviously thing in the world. It was as if he expected the Inquisition to solve everything.

“First of all, the Inquisition is not what it once was. Second, this has to do with my friend. I can’t just put that in the hands of someone else. By the time we get this information to them, and they investigate for themselves, we could already be there. Plus, I actually care for Anne-Laure. We don’t even know if they will protect her. Inquisitor Lavellan is well known for her displeasure with nobility.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her, as if to say _And you have an abundance of patience for nobles_?

He sighed again. “This is what I get for falling in love with an Orlesian woman from good breeding. I’ll never be rid of these people.” He softly laughed at her. He gazed at her with all the affection he had to give and reached out to caress her cheek. She leaned into his touch, a smile faint on her lips. They loved each other very deeply, despite their very different backgrounds.

After a moment of silence to let Rhys reflect on what she had said, Evangeline spoke up, “So, are you coming with me?”

Rhys snorted. “It was never a question, love.”

It was settled. Tomorrow they would set out for Wycome.


	9. Chapter 9

**_In this chapter, I am really going to try to explain Cole’s nature (at least in my story) and why he still feels the mage Cole’s memories. Please let me know how I did. I have a terrible headache after writing this chapter so there may some typos and such. It always hurts my head to try to contemplate Cole in this much depth, but that’s one reason I love him so much. xD_**

**_Now, if you will excuse me, I think I am going to go nap._ **

* * *

 

**NINE**

_Six days since leaving Skyhold_

_Location: Storm Coast_

Before the surprise meeting with the Red Templars on the highway, they didn’t intend on actually going all the way to the Storm Coast. However, now Fay wanted to check up on the old Red Templar stronghold, as well as investigate remaining red lyrium deposits. Why she thought just the two of them going was a good idea was beyond him. They had just been near Caer Bronach. Perhaps they could have requested some support?

When he asked her about it, she effectively shut him up.

“It’s the same reason I only brought you with me to Wycome. I don’t want to draw attention to us. We are just going to pass by, see if anything has been disturbed, then we will set off for Kirkwall. It’s not like we are gonna storm the place.”

Cole somehow doubted that. Missions rarely went the way they were supposed to.

She was irritated that he asked. He didn’t think she had a good reason to be. Cole knew it would be him that would have to go scout the place. That was what he was best at. He would also never risk Fay’s life by sending her alone. He couldn’t.

He wanted to protect the small, defend the weak. That was his purpose. But with Fay, it was…different. She didn’t really need his protection. She was smaller in size than him because she is an elf, but she anything but weak. She almost seemed unbreakable, even though Cole knew better than that. Even though she wasn’t weak or small, he still felt _very_ protective of her. He would kill for her without hesitation. Even if she was leading him to his second death, he was at peace with that. He would rather be with her surrounded by every monster from the Fade than be without her. He would rather follow her into eternal darkness than go alone into the light.

After his confession in Crestwood, he felt almost lighter. He felt accepted and safe. Fay may not know his entire past or all of his secrets, but she knew enough now to send most people away in fear. Regardless of how damaged he was, she embraced him and he could feel that she trusted him completely. Not even Rhys or Evangeline, who were the only other people who knew of his family, trusted him.

He would never do anything to betray her trust.

Still, he was frustrated with her at the moment. She is awfully stubborn. It didn’t feel good to be upset with her.

They rode their mounts across the mountainous terrain. Julie was getting tired of the slippery rocks. Cole was getting tired of the rain. He used to really enjoy it. But once he became more human, he started to feel the cold. He didn’t like the cold. It tingled, and _not_ in a good way.

He just wasn’t in a very good mood. That was also a big part of being human; sometimes he just felt sad. His right eye twitched beneath his hair. It didn’t help.

They finally made it to the coast, but they still had to head down the beach line to get to the Stronghold. They stopped to tie their mounts. When Cole went to descend, his foot landed on a smooth, wet rock. He lost his footing and landed right on his arse, sending a shock of pain up his spine.

“SHIT!”

Fay started to cackle at him…loudly. She doubled over in hysterics and snorted, bending forward and literally slapping her knees. Cole scowled at her for at least a full minute before she finally walked over to him to give him a hand to balance on. She was beaming at him, trying to catch her breath.

Her smile was stunning.

“Cole, I think that was the first time I have ever heard you use a curse word.” She was still laughing. She was looking at him with her big, violet eyes, bright with amusement, with tears of happiness collecting in the ducts.

He couldn’t help but smile back at her. “I’ve cursed before. I’ve said ‘arse’.”

That seemed to just make her laugh harder.

He started to laugh with her. Her joy was making his chest feel tight. Not quite painful, more like _longing._

Still giggling, Fay rested her forehead against his shoulder, putting her hand on his side in a half embrace. Neither of them noticed they were still holding hands.

The nearness of her made the tightness in his chest uncoil and send electric sparks throughout his body, all the way to his toes. They curled in his boots. It felt like insects in his stomach were fluttering about. He could feel the individual fingers of her hand on his waist, the cells beneath his skin setting on fire with their touch. Something was stirring within him, awakening.

He chewed on his lip, partly out of nervousness and partly from feeling the need to do something with his mouth. He had never been so overcome by sensations. He also never wanted to be closer to another soul before. His arm moved on its own accord, coming to a rest on the back of her head. Her fingers dug deeper into his waist in reaction. It only served to make the fire burn hotter. He turned his head and pressed his lips to her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. She froze and then moved to put some distance between them.

Her eyes were facing the ground and she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. Her face was so red it almost concealed the markings of her vallaslin on her cheekbones. She moved the hand from his side and released the hand held in her other.

He could still feel where his lips met her hair. He wanted to press his lips to her again. Not in the way he did to the cats in the kitchen or to Julie when he was being affectionate. Not the way he did when he used to tuck his sister into bed.

No. He wanted to _taste_ her. He wanted to know how the curve of her neck would feel against his tongue.

He couldn’t tell anything by looking at her face, but he could feel that she wanted the same thing.

_She wants me to…_

But she still pulled away. He could feel her tug against every instinct that lit within her body. It was slow, sweet torture.

He placed his hand gently against her cheek, leaned in and whispered with his voice husky and his throat tight “It’s…ok, Fay.”

And then he pulled away completely and turned around, tying the mounts to a couple of trees nearby.

It was probably one of the hardest things he had ever done. He wanted… but right now, on the wet coast with dangerous enemies possibly nearby was hardly the best setting.

She stood in the same place, her hand placed on her cheek where his had just been a moment before.

“Right…” she said, her voice thick and low. She clears her throat. “We just need to keep heading west on the shore and we will run right into it.”

With that, their brief midday interlude was over.

* * *

 

Faerydae didn’t want to deal with these feelings Cole was bringing up in her. She couldn’t get him out of her mind. It was really distressing. She was never much of a feelings type of girl. She had them; she respected them in other people. She cared a lot for people, in fact, sometimes even at the expense of herself. But she didn’t like dealing with her own feelings, especially _mushy_ ones. In fact, romance in general was such a discomfort, she thought the usually distressing and perplexing topic of Cole’s nature would be better suited to fill the silence as they walked.

“Cole, I have a question about…what you told me in Crestwood.” She didn’t want to cause him anymore pain, but she needed to understand him. She needed to know exactly who were companion is and what they were dealing with. She needed to know as much as he knew, at least.

“You can ask me. It won’t hurt.”

She didn’t even know where to start or how to ask. She was just baffled.

“I’m really confused. I remember when we went to the Hinterlands for your amulet and we ran into the Templar. Afterward, you referred to the mage Cole as a separate person. But in Crestwood, you were sharing your memories with me, but those were his memories. Are you him, the mage Cole?”

“I am me and he is me, but I am not him.”

_What the hell does that mean?_

Faerydae shook her head. That really didn’t help clear things up at all. Cole seemed to sense her confusion and tried again.

“He…made me what I am. He is part of me. His memories are mine, so they change me. But I wasn’t him. He is gone. I am just me.”

Faerydae still didn’t get it; this was all going over her head. She thought she didn’t have the capacity to understand it and it was the end of the conversation. It was for few moments, but Cole didn’t want to give up yet. He paused, turned around, and held up his hand. She stopped walking to look at him, watching him with interest.

“These fingers, my fingers, never touched Emeline, but I can remember how soft her hair felt when I used to braid it for her.” Cole took a step forward, grabbed her hand again and held up their intertwined fingers in front of her face. She let him and tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach the gesture induced. She struggled to swallow her nerves.

“His fingers, the ones that braided her hair, will never touch your hand, like I do.”

He shares his mind, his soul, but not his body. At least, that is the conclusion she came to. But maybe that was too simplified an answer, but she appreciated his effort in helping her to understand what he was. It must be frustrating to know something in your head but not be able to explain it with words.

“Is that why you can’t perform magic?” She didn’t really know if that was even a good question to ask. No one truly understand what made mages different from other people. It isn’t know what could cause them to access the fade the way they do, but maybe Cole, being as unique as he was, could give her some insight.

“I think so. Yes. But I have never really tried, so I don’t know.”

Or not.

_By[Hypermuffins](hypermuffins.tumblr.com)_

* * *

 

They walked the coastline until the cave they were looking for came into view. It was hidden away behind giant rocks that dotted the shore. The cave almost sat on top of the Waking Sea, almost floating on it. By then, it was pouring the rain, and the already slippery, pebble covered shore became almost unbearable.

You couldn’t see the cave from the shore; the lights that were once lit for the Inquisition long extinguished. If they didn’t already know their way around, it would be easy to miss. She noticed the Inquisition banner still stood in front of it.

When they entered the cave, it was impossible to see anything. The always light that could be seen in the first cave was the exit that would lead them to the old Stronghold -Daerwin’s Mouth. Careful not to trip, they slowly walked toward the light. Their footsteps echoed around them. The place was empty. But that didn’t mean the old port was. That was where the red lyrium deposits were. Emerging from the other side, it was apparent that boats with Templar shields decorating their sides were dry docked on the shore. Cole answered her question.

“These haven’t been moved for a long time.”

So they continued until they reached the mouth of the second cave. Faerydae turned to Cole, as if to ask him what the risks of going in were. He sighed.

“It’s quiet right now. Should be ok to go in. I can go in first and look around, if you would like.”

She shook her head. There was no reason to send him in alone.

“No. If you say it’s quiet, I trust you.”

“It’s…not completely quiet. There is noise, but not from people.”

Faerydae wasn’t sure if he was talking about animals or something else, but he seemed to agree that going in together was a good idea.

When they entered the mouth of the cave, the glow from the red lyrium deposits was very apparent. That must be what he heard.

“Yes. It still sings. Its song is very loud.”

The red glowed so brightly you could easily see the dwarvian structures inside. Beautiful, giant statues were placed against the walls, as if to guard the place. The tiles that covered the floor were once smooth but were now cracked with age and wear. Water dripped down the walls, covering them with a glossy, damp film. It smelled like mold and salt.

She remembered the hidden door way on the far right side of the cave would take her to the top floor. If there were any Templars in the area, that would be the ideal location for them. When she finally located it, she remembered one of the reasons she despised the coast – there were rocks everywhere. They even acted as natural stairs. They were slippery and they hurt her feet. She should have worn more appropriate footwear.

When they made it to the top, Faerydae’s heart sank. The red lyrium was everywhere in this place. It grew out in giant crystals on the walls, ceiling, and ground. The glow was so bright it gave her a headache. It was almost like there was more here now than before.

She passed through the doorway leading to one of the few rooms. It was then her heart sank further. The desk was covered in empty vials, including some used ones. They still had the faint red radiance from what it used to contain. She heard Cole poking around the room. He spoke up.

“The fire that was here was just recently put out. The ashes are still warm.”

Faerydae growled in frustration “Fucking shit. Maker’s tits. Fuck fuck _shit._ ”

Cole seemed to still hold out some hope. “Could it be from the Blades of Hessarian? They are still here, right?”

But Faerydae knew better. The presence of the vials was all the evidence they needed.

“No. When we stormed this place last time, we cleaned this whole place out. We trashed all the paraphernalia. These bottles are new…someone was here collecting and using.”

They left their equipment behind, which means they will be back for it.

“Cole, we should probably get out of here before we run into whoever is camping here. You are right, we can’t take on a whole stronghold by ourselves.”

Of all the thing Cole could have done in response, he laughs. He actually laughs at her.

“What is so damn funny?”

He covers his mouth with one gloved hand. Faerydae vaguely acknowledged that she finds the gesture adorable.

“You are.”

She huffed at him. It was so great that he found this whole situation _entertaining_. But she couldn’t blame him; if she didn’t find something to laugh about, she would have killed herself a long time ago.

She turned to retrace their steps until they exited the cave. There wasn’t anything they could do about this until they got to Kirkwall. Once they reached the city, she would send a message to Cullen and Leliana to give them an update.

For now, the two of them needed to find a functional port they could cross the Waking Sea. She also really, _really_ wanted to change into some dry socks.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**TEN**

_Eight days since leaving Skyhold_

_Location: Kirkwall - Lowtown_

The city was fascinating in its own right. It was also noisy and it kind of reeked. Even though Faerydae is technically from the Free Marches, she didn’t explore cities too often. She was very a much _frolic through a field_ and _make friends with a tree_ type of girl (not that she would ever admit that, ever). Of course, she is a Dalish elf, so it isn’t like anyone could blame her for preferring to stay away from metropolises. In fact, she was pretty sure she was allergic to the smog. What do people do here to make the air so polluted? They definitely needed more trees. They could probably dO with a few less drunks as well. And less pricks– there were far too many pricks.

“Well, good fucking afternoon to you, too, you great _nug’s arse_.” That was at least the fifth insult she had barked at some rude stranger within the past hour of walking around Lowtown.

Cole kept one hand wrapped around a blade at his side and the other around her arm the whole time. She was pretty sure he was expecting someone to try to kill her in retaliation for her filthy mouth. She doubted many of these cretins wanted to piss off someone with an ax, but you never know. They may be truly stupid.

“Remind me again why I saved these people?”

“Because you are a good person and you care about people, even when they are impolite.”

Cole had this tendency to answer every question she asked, including rhetorical ones. It was part of his charm. She had tried to explain the difference once upon a time, but pick your battles and all that rot.

Once they had dropped Jack and Julie at the carriage house, they had stopped by the Scribe and Messenger Courier to send Cullen and Leliana a messenger bird. She struggled to find the right words to use, just in case their birds were intercepted.

“Ran into some old friends of ours. They moved back into their old house on the Coast. If you are wanting to send a housewarming gift, they are still fond of the color red. – F”

When she finished composing the missive, she handed it over to Cole for comment. “Take a look. I want your opinion. Do you think they would understand what I meant?”

He looked awkwardly at the paper in his hands. “I don’t know what the words say.”

She narrowed her eyes, confused. Then understanding swept through her. Embarrassment and a red, hot blush followed close behind.

“Oh, shit, Cole. You don’t know how to read?”

Cole shook his head, and then lowered it in what could be interpreted as self-consciousness. She gently touched his arm, wanting desperately to correct her blunder. When he wouldn’t look, she grabbed his chin to turn his head toward her, cupping his face as he gazed at her. She could feel the soft, blond stubble on his cheek. She hoped he could feel her sincerity.

“I’m so sorry, Cole. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. There is no shame in not knowing. I am the one who should be embarrassed to make an assumption like that. Most people don’t know how to read.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Most of our friends at Skyhold can read.”

“Yes. But they come from educated backgrounds. They were very fortunate to learn. Most people in Thedas don’t get that opportunity. I only know how because my _hahren_ thought it was important we could communicate with humans. Most Dalish do not teach their children to read human languages.”

He relaxed a little and a small smile appeared on his face. Leaning into her touch, he covered her hand with his own. To an outside observer, they appeared to be very familiar and comfortable with each other, almost like lovers.

“You care about me.” He seemed elated at this realization.

Just when Faerydae’s face was returning to a normal color, her cheeks heated again.

“Erm. Yes.”

He softly stroked the hand that remained firmly attached to his cheek.

“Thank you. I care about you, too.”

Faerydae was pretty certain her face was going to stay permanently scarlet. That same bundle of nerves she had been trying to fight for days was daring to make another appearance. Regretfully, she dropped her hand from his face. She already missed its warmth.

“Um…would you like to learn? Because…I could teach you…”

Cole’s eyes brightened wildly at the suggestion, the skin at the corner of his eyes wrinkling, and his smile widening until his teeth showed. He nodded enthusiastically, “You would do that for me? Yes. Please. Yes, I would like to learn.”

The intensity of his reaction warmed her chest. She turned to face the store clerk, who had been waiting patiently for the note she intended to send. She apologized, handed him the letter along with a few coppers to pay for the service. She then asked him for a large stack of parchment, a couple quills, and two inkwells. He left to go retrieved her requested items, and when he returned, Faerydae gave him a silver piece for his patience and the quality service. He was the first friendly person she had run across in this hole.

They exited the quiet shop, only to return to the noise and disorder of the streets.

“I don’t really like cities. They are usually dirty,” Cole commented when they reached the Main Street, kicking a dusty rock out of his path.

“You can say that again.”

“I could, but I don’t know why I would.”

She sighed but laughed under her breath. There wasn’t anyone in the world more special to her than Cole.

* * *

 

After stopping by a bookshop to purchase a couple of volumes for Cole, he shocked her.

“Fay, I’m hungry.”

_Well, that’s new._

Even though Lowtown wasn’t exactly homely or friendly, there were several restaurants to choose from. She choose a casual looking place with a lot of open room for dining outside. Both of them choose the meat pie with roasted vegetables. While they waited for their food, Cole was eager to talk about his new reading lessons.

“Why did you get all that paper?”

“I will have to write some, and so will you. We will start with the alphabet and the sounds each letter makes.”

“I know some letters. I can write my name.”

“Great! That’s a good place to start. We can review all sounds each letter makes, and you can learn to write them, too.”

Cole asked her if she would write the alphabet for him now while they waited for their dinner. She removed an inkwell, a quill, and some paper from her tote. She wrote out all the capital and lowercase letters, repeating the names and the sounds each one made. When she handed him the paper, he first wrote his name C-O-L-E across the top. He retraced each letter, repeating the sounds quietly under his breath. Fay watched him, smiling to herself, enjoying her surprisingly tasty meat pie. She was glad she could help him learn something he could enjoy and would also be extremely useful. Someone at Skyhold should have noticed and started lessons months ago. It was common for illiterate people to function perfectly well all their life without being noticed, even when surrounded by the literate. She couldn’t really blame anyone that they hadn’t known sooner.

They stayed at the same table long after their meal was finished and paid for. Cole had filled up four sheets of parchment with the alphabet, and he actually began to mix up their order to test himself. When the sun had started to go down, Faerydae decided that they better get back to their belongings and check on Jack and Julie before someone else tried to claim them.

Cole and Faerydae returned to the Inn next to the carriage house that currently housed all their travel supplies. After they arrived at the port that morning, Faerydae had purchased a room with two single beds. She didn’t know if she was asking for trouble, but that still didn’t stop her. She wondered if she subconsciously _wanted_ trouble.

* * *

 

Faerydae had just began to drift off when she felt his presence at her side. A small part of her wanted to ignore it and close her eyes, but a much larger part of her was glad he was there.

“Fay?” She heard call softly.

“Yes, Cole?” She gulped, her stomach doing summersaults against her will. She didn’t roll over to face him but remained carefully still on her side. The fact that she was arguing with herself was probably written all over her face. Of course, this is _Cole_ ; he could most likely already tell.

“Do…c-can I sleep here tonight? I’m really tired, but I have nightmares when I sleep. I don’t have them when I am near you.”

She _really_ should tell him no. If he slept in her bed tonight, she knew there would be no going back. She would have to admit that there was something there, between them. But even her own nightmares ceased when she felt him nearby, informing her that line was crossed ages ago.

“Yes.” The word was out there before she could take it back.

The bed dipped behind her and the covers shifted as he climbed in. Immediately, his body heat had an effect on her senses. She was already trembling from his proximity as he moved until his form pressed tightly against her backside.

She stopped breathing when she could feel his face near her throat. His lips pressed a gentle kiss at the place where her jaw met her ear. He pulled away to whisper a quivering “goodnight” into her ear, his soft breath cooling the moisture that remained from his kiss. Gooseflesh erupted across her chest and down her arms. His hand had reached over to grab one of hers, lacing their fingers together, resting them against her stomach. Her own exhale came out more like a hiss. She was overwhelmed by the feeling of the soft hairs of his bare forearm faintly tickling her skin. His strong arm draped over her waist could have caused literally set her on fire.

She felt her center tighten and pulsate, begging him to reach down just a little lower…just to touch her _there_ …

_Please._

_Oh fuck_ , she was losing her mind. She was going to drown in him. This was the end for her; she could just die from the intensity of it all right there on the bed, with her heart exploding in her chest.

_They weren’t even doing anything, yet._

His soft inhalations sounded behind her signaling his exit from waking world. She couldn’t decide whether to throttle him or thank the Creators he fell asleep.

She murmured “emma na'tu reva'din” to his sleeping form before tightening her closed eyes in a desperate attempt to fall asleep.

She officially dug her grave.

* * *

 

Fay, you are so dramatic. All this from a little spooning. Go take a cold shower. Geez. :P

Translations-

emma na'tu reva'din – I am at your mercy.

**_I used to be a literacy tutor for adult learners, so the lessons you see in this story are loosely based on the curriculum I used with my students. Of course, Cole and Fay do not have access to the same learning materials, but they make do.  PSA: Definitely support your local literacy and ESL program. They are usually implemented through the public library. It is a worthy cause and dramatically changes lives! It’s hard to imagine how much of the population in developed nations are illiterate, but the numbers are staggering in all of them. Each one teach one! :) /endPSA_ **

 


	11. Chapter 11

**ELEVEN**

_Nine days since leaving Skyhold_

Rhys and Evangeline departed the ship with no love lost for them. Neither were too fond of sea travel. The close proximity of so many others punctuated the smell of body odor. It was nauseating and coupled with the sway of the boat on the water, it was foul combination.

Neither of them had been anywhere near Kirkwall since the rebellion. It was disconcerting to be there now. The docks were crowded, but the people were all very diverse. Rhys was a little concerned about being a mage there. He was officially an apostate now and the letter Evangeline received made him feel worse, but he clearly wasn’t the only mage. There was safety in numbers and that brought him some comfort.

They made their way to Lowtown since it was a center of trade in the area. There were not a lot of places to stop and restock on supplies once they left the Hinterlands. Going straight through to Kirkwall would be the fastest route. They would stay here temporarily, and then they would travel by water up the coast to Wycome.

They were walking down a busy street next to the supply shops when he spotted him.

Approximately 30 feet in front of them stood a young man who looked to be in his early 20’s. He wore dirty looking leathers made primarily of patches of other garments. He had a dagger hanging around his back and its twin held firmly in his hand. His large and floppy hat concealed most of his face, but he could recognize him without any difficulty. Next to him stood an elf who came up to his shoulders. She wore full armor and had an axe attached to her hip. Her long, black hair was pulled back in a braid but fell across of her shoulders. A light grey tattoo went across her cheekbones clearly indicating her Dalish heritage. The tattoo made it look as if her cheekbones were lined with cracks, or like flower roots were growing across her face. She clutched the arm that carried the dagger while he pointed it away from her body. They pulled two mounts behind them in opposite hands: one dracolisk and one very large nug, each carrying their own set of luggage.

_Cole is in Kirkwall. Cole is alive._

_Cole is with a woman…?_

Rhys grabbed onto Evangeline’s hand, stopping her in her place. She gave him a funny glance, but he found it hard to draw his eyes away from Cole for fear of losing him in the crowd. Evangeline turned her head to follow his line of sight. He could tell she spotted him when she gasped and gripped his hand tighter.

“Is that….is that _Cole_?” She barely choked the words out.

“I think it is. I don’t know who that is with him.”

“Should we go to him?”

If he was perfectly honest, Rhys didn’t know the answer. His heart wanted to go to Cole, to see him and hug him and ask if he was well. He missed his friend. But the mage part of him, the part that had seen the horrors of the fade and demons, the part that watched him disappear in the sewers, told him to turn back and forget him.

Eventually his two halves compromised. They followed behind the couple, far enough back not be noticed in the crowd but close enough to keep up with them. Faces nearly touching, they spoke softly to one another as they walked down the street. Cole listened, nodded, and even smiled at her, even when wasn’t looking at him. Maybe especially when she wasn’t looking at him. Whoever this elf was, Cole appeared to be very close to her – and protective.

From his observations, he could tell the woman was pretty volatile. She perhaps reminded him a little of Adrian…when they were still friends. While he was too far away to hear if she said anything, he could see her turn back to scowl at a few passing pedestrians. The most interesting observation had nothing to do with the woman; the people they passed appeared to not only see Cole, but could actually notice him. He heard a group of small children pass by, discussing Cole’s unusual choice of headwear.

Still holding on to Evangeline’s hand, he spoke to her but not looking her way, “People are reacting to him like he is a normal person. They can see him. I even heard someone comment on him.”

“I know that elf sees him just fine.” He could hear the smirk in her voice.

Rhys nodded. “Yes…that is a rather interesting development.” He couldn’t help but grin at them.

“Do you want to go to him?”

“I do. But do you think it is safe?”

She didn’t answer for a few minutes. They continued to follow the couple.

“Not really…but if we don’t go, we will regret it later.”

Evangeline was right. While safety was questionable, especially after finding out about Cole in the sewer, he still didn’t think he would ever intentionally hurt Rhys. He regretted never being able to help him and for never being able to tell him that he forgave him. He would definitely regret passing this chance up.

He took a deep breath.

“Let’s go.”

Rhys and Evangeline increased their pace, wading through the maze of people on the busy street. When they were finally directly behind them, on Cole’s side, Rhys simply called his name.

Cole and the elf paused in their steps, causing their mounts to follow their example. Cole, with an unnatural speed and grace, turned to him. He was standing directly in front of him before Rhys could get his full name passed his lips. Cole had his dagger drawn, but did not have it aimed at him. Evangeline, who must have interpreted his movement as a threat, had begun to unsheathe her sword when the mysterious woman had her own axe in front of her, standing protectively between Evangeline and Cole. She had a fire in her violet, alien like eyes and a look of grime determination set on her face. She spoke in a very low, menacing voice.

“I will warn you once. If you lay a single finger on this man, I will kill you - without hesitation. Cole, put up your dagger.”

Evangeline put her weapon away and held up her hands. Cole also placed his dagger in its holder on his back. It was only then the elf put her own weapon away.

Even though Evangeline cooperated, she wasn’t about to let it go.

“Just who are you to think you can go around drawing your weapons on strangers and making demands?”

Rhys grimaced.

“Who I am is of no consequence to you. You just tried to draw your weapon on a high ranking Inquisition agent and I’m obligated to defend him.”

_Inquisition agent? High ranking?_

Evangeline understood before he did, widening her eyes and letting her jaw drop.

“Oh, Andraste. You are Inquisitor Lavellan, aren’t you?”

_Great,_

“In the fucking flesh.”

“With all due respect, Inquisitor, Cole had his weapon drawn first. I was only responding because I thought he was posing a threat.”

_I am going to die today._

Cole finally spoke, looking shyly at his hands that he was nervously picking, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I would’ve have never hurt you, Rhys! You just surprised me.”

Rhys didn’t get a chance to respond to him. Evangeline was already jumping in with a hostile voice.

“Do you always react that way when you are surprised?”

Before Cole could respond, the Inquisitor pounced on Evangeline like a cat after a mouse.

“Cole is an Inquisition _assassin_. It is his job to always be ready to kill. So, yes, that is how he acts when he is _surprised_.”

Harsh, honeyed eyes met threatening purple, both squinting in persistence, hardly believing the tenacity of the other. The tension was getting noticeably thicker and it felt like one of them was going to explode. People had started listening in, but were pretending not to. They probably didn’t want to set off either woman who looked like they were looking for an excuse to mutilate someone.

Cole was obviously very confused, regarding the two of them, a questioning look on his face.

“I don’t understand. What is going on?”

Rhys actually barked out a laugh in retort. Cole’s response was so innocent and endearing. He couldn’t help but find the whole situation funny. If he was going to die today, he should at least go out cheerful.

“It appears the ladies have taken it upon themselves to defend our honor, Cole. While the gesture is appreciated, it isn’t necessary. I think Cole and I can handle our _misunderstanding_.” He emphasized the final word, hoping they each would take the hint.

Slowly, their postures relaxed so they no longer looked like they would be ready for a fight. They both took a couple steps back to allow Cole and Rhys room to talk.

Rhys took a deep breath, relieved. It looked like any immediate danger had passed, for now.

“Well, Cole. Looks like you have moved up in the world. High ranking agent of the Inquisition, and an assassin to boot. Quite a perfect fit for you.” He allowed himself to smile at the young man. Cole returned it with one of his own, although it was tight in discomfort.

“Yes…I am helping people. I am happy.”

“I am really glad to hear it.”

Evangeline was eyeing him with suspicion clearly marked on her features. She took a deep breath and let out a brittle apology.

“I am sorry, to both of you – Cole, Inquisitor - for responding so rashly. Given Cole’s nature, I was on my guard. However, it was uncalled for.”

The Inquisitor lifted an eyebrow, but seemed to accept the apology, “Cole’s nature? What do you know about Cole’s nature?” She didn’t ask in a harsh way, but actually seemed curious.

“Last time we saw him, we know he was at least under the influence of demons, possibly even one himself.”

“Cole isn’t a demon, I assure you.”

“You will have to pardon my doubt as the facts state otherwise.”

It was Cole’s turn to defend himself, “I am no more a demon than you are, Evangeline.”

Evangeline’s eyebrows climbed her forehead. She laughed nervously.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

Cole wasn’t insulted. He tilted his head to the side in question, eyes narrowing, looking carefully at Evangeline. It was almost like he was inspecting her before he responded.

“What is it that keeps your heart beating?”

There was silence. Rhys felt like the whole city could hear his gulp.

The Inquisitor spoke up, all malice leaving her voice. “You are Rhys and Evangeline? Cole’s friends?” She held out her small hand and introduced herself, even though everyone knew who she is, “I’m Faerydae, but you can call me Fay. Cole has mentioned you. He is quite fond of you.”

Rhys was surprised by the action but moved to shake her hand. Evangeline also gripped her hand and even achieved a small smile from it.

“Fay is very forgiving. She doesn’t forget, but she also doesn’t remember. I think you will be friends.” Cole sported a lopsided smile with his comment.

Rhys would have severely doubted it not five minutes ago, but now he thought perhaps they would after all.

“Why don’t we all go sit and talk?”

 

* * *

 

They sat around a table outside of one of the many shops lining the street. It was pleasant conversation. Fay had warmed up to Rhys and Evangeline almost immediately after learning who they were. Rhys found out that Cole played a major role in the defeat of Corypheus, even facing him personally. Though Corypheus was a powerful magister, he couldn’t bind Cole against his will. That was…extremely intriguing. It was if Cole was human. But Rhys was curious about something else.

“Cole. Fay. Why are in the Free Marches?”

Cole allowed Fay to answer him, “My clan. My keeper held a chair on the city council in Wycome. They had stayed in the Valley for a long time. I suddenly got a letter from her saying that she and the entire clan were moving – that they had overstayed their welcome. At the same time, our ally there passed away from some mysterious illness. Cole and I came to investigate in person.”

Rhys’ blood suddenly ran ice cold through his veins. Evangeline lost all color in her sun kissed face.

“Oh, Maker. I just got a letter from a friend of mine in Wycome. That is why we are here. It is…quite alarming…but I think it is related to your problem.” She removed a folded piece of parchment from her person and handed it to the Inquisitor.

Fay opened the letter and read it aloud, seemingly for Cole’s benefit. The further she read, the more concerned they both appeared. When she was finished, she put her head in her hands and rubbed her temples. Cole looked at her in concern, but then spoke for her.

“We had to fight off Red Templars on the Highway in Ferelden. They have started to collect red lyrium again.”

It was impossible that these events weren’t related. Something bad was happening, but he wondered where to start.

Fay spoke up then, voice cracking, “I am willing to bet good coin that I know who is leading these Liberators. It’s the same person who is leading the Red Templars. He disappeared at some point during the conflict with Corypheus. He’s back and recruiting. Fucking shit. It’s fucking Samson.”

* * *

 

**Yes, yes. Rhys and Evangeline have joined them, but there will still be Colemance a-plenty. Never fear! If Cole and Fay don’t do some *ahem* _mingling_ soon, I am pretty sure one of them is going to combust. No. I’m definitely sure. It’s, like, a law of nature or something.**

 


	12. Chapter 12

**_Thank you all so much for all the love! It definitely gets the creative juices flowing. I am so happy people are actually enjoying this story. I get so nervous every time I post a new chapter. I am having a blast writing it, but it is certainly an emotional roller coaster!_ **

* * *

 

“I don’t know what to do and I’m always in the dark

We’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks

I really need you tonight; Forever’s gonna start tonight

Forever’s gonna start tonight”

-Bonnie Taylor _Total Eclipse of the Heart_

**TWELVE**

_10 days since leaving Skyhold_

_Location: Wilderness between Kirkwall and Ostwick, south of the Vimmark Mountains_

Wasting more time in Kirkwall would set them back another day. After reading Evangeline’s letter from the noble, Fay was convinced that it was Samson who was behind it all. No one had heard from him since he “failed” his mission for Corypheus and was essentially replaced by Calpernia. The Red Templars had supposedly been all but eliminated. The Inquisition had assumed he had been executed so they didn’t waste resources trying to track him down.

It was decided the best option for travel would be by mount along the coast since that is the best way to run into Clan Lavellan. Rhys and Evangeline joined Faerydae and Cole after leaving Kirkwall. Fay even had to admit that there may be more danger than she had previously expected and increasing their numbers would be wise. They didn’t have mounts, so Rhys and Evangeline rode Jack while Fay and Cole rode Julie. They were making fairly good time staying off of the main roads. While they could handle Red Templars if they came upon them, they wanted to avoid it for now.

The air was dry and dirty and caused Cole’s throat to feel parched. Holding tightly to the reigns steering Julie, he could feel Fay’s arms wrapped around his waist. He had placed his daggers into his boots so that she could lay her face across his back during the long journey. It provided quite a distraction and he had to keep reminding himself to concentrate on his task.

Time was going to be needed to adjust to the change in circumstances. It was all happening so fast – too fast. Overnight, the best friend, and for so long his only friend, was suddenly back in his life. And Rhys forgave him. He hadn’t even mentioned the White Spire since their reunion. Cole didn’t know how to handle it all.

Then, there was Fay.

Whose body was tightly pressed against him, just like she was the other night at the Inn in Kirkwall.

And before that, Crestwood.

And before that, the tent.

Each time was more of a struggle than the last. It was getting harder to keep his hands properly to himself. Cole didn’t completely understand the urges he was feeling. He knew people felt this way but he didn’t expect to be so strong in himself. He has always noticed when a woman is pretty, been shy at the touch of them, blushed with their attention. But to want to the things he wanted now? He _really_ wanted them. It was no longer a curiosity. It was a need. It was a need he wasn’t certain he should try to satisfy. But he was a fully _functioning_ human man. His needs made themselves known despite himself. Regardless of this, he wanted to be near her. He needed her and it terrified him.

They stopped to make camp for the night in a clearing nearby a woods. After everything was set up, the sun had started to go down. Fay had mentioned seeing a small creek among the trees in the woods on the way. She moved to gather their flasks to refill them.

“Cole, come with me? I am not sure if I should exploring an unfamiliar on my own this close to dark.”

One pale eyebrow rose at her. Fay, worried about danger in the woods? She would take a high dragon on by herself, if you let her. Fortunately, Rhys and Evangeline didn’t notice anything unusual about her request, probably because they didn’t know her well enough yet to grasp how stubborn she is.

While Cole had questioned her motives, he still stood up to follow her. They left camp, walking until the firelight was out of sight, before Fay stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

He had to laugh then.

“There isn’t a stream out here, is there?”

“Oh, there is somewhere. But that isn’t the reason I wanted to go on a walk.”

Then he could feel it. The nervousness, the tension, the fear of abandonment. Flowing off of her and hitting him square in the heart like a cannon. She was afraid of him, but there was an undercurrent of something else. He looked to her with concern. He never wanted her to be frightened of him.

“Am I scaring you?”

Waiting for her to answer, Cole made himself comfortable on a fallen tree log. Fay was pacing in front of him, wringing her hands together.

“Yes and no. I am not scared of _you_ , Cole. Just…”

“…I don’t know what happening, with, whatever this is.” She pointed back and forth between the two of them. “I’m shit at normal emotions, Cole. I’m not Cassandra; I don’t read fucking romantic smut novels and I have no idea what is supposed to come next. This has never happened to me before.”

Cole dropped his hat on the ground beside him and ruffled his hair. This might take a bit and he was starting to sweat from the humidity of the forest. He wracked his brain for an answer. He didn’t know how to reassure her; he didn’t have a clue what he was doing either.

“Cassandra used to read those books to me sometimes. I could tell you what happens next, but she always got really red and flustered when she came to those parts.”

Fay face heated up and she covered her face in her hands in mortification.

“Oh Creators. You don’t need to tell me. I get the picture. But that’s not what I am talking about…I’m talking about what happens next…with _us_.”

Cole stood to approach her. He gently grabbed her hands to lower them and smiled at her. Black hair was loose in front of her face, and he tucked the strands behind her long ears, tilting her chin to look up at him. He wanted to see her.

“What comes next can be whatever we want.”

Fluttering her eyes closed, she responded softly with an exhale, “What do you want to come next, Cole?”

The air was charged with a current he couldn’t quite describe. Had lightning struck nearby? Oh, Cole _definitely_ knew what he wanted now. He hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind since they left Skyhold.

“Fay…”

He could see her swallow hard, bringing his attention to the curve of her throat. Very slowly, and without rational thought, he turned his head so he could place his lips on that throat. He could feel her skin burning under them and he pressed his lips against her harder when she let out a low murmur. Electricity shot through his body and he brought his hand behind her head, digging his fingers into her velvet hair. It was already all too much. Her breath was falling heavily into his ear.

Lifting his head, he grazed the side of her jaw with his lips, and then rested his forehead against hers. She was panting and the heart beating loudly in his chest seemed to overpower all other sounds of wildlife surrounding them.

“…you are so beautiful.”

Grasping her hips, he walked her back until her body hit the tree behind her and she rested her fingers on his chest. Crystal blue eyes looked into striking violet and he leaned down, finally capturing her lips with his own. He was shaking from nerves and the intensity. A fire lit deep in his belly. He lowered one hand to rest against her low back, pulling her forward flush against him.

Gentle whimpers escaped her lips and they parted for him. Cole took the opportunity to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She opened for him and a shy tongue hit the bottom row of her teeth, exploring upwards to find hers. Their tongues rolled together like that, gently getting acquainted, inexperience preventing losing all control. Falling slightly forward, trying to keep balance, he caught the tree behind them. He was rapidly losing his footing and his sanity. She tasted so sweet and warm in his mouth and the way she started to run her hands down his back made all blood and hesitation leave his brain. He pressed his pelvis against her hip, certain she could feel his arousal. She answered her with own moan escaping from low in her throat. He was falling.

“Cole? Fay? Are you guys still out there?”

_Maker, please. Not now._

It was Evangeline, concerned that they had ran into trouble since they had been gone so long. Either that, or the ex-templar was trying to prevent the very situation that was currently occurring between them. No matter which reason it was, the interruption made Cole scowl.

They separated, and Fay answered her with an affirmative response. Cole grabbed his hat on the forest floor and followed her. They made their way back to the camp, back to the fire and the tents, and Rhys and Evangeline. Back to reality. Inwardly, and maybe some outwardly, Cole cursed. Fay shyly smiled at him, a twinkle in her eye that wasn’t present before. Rhys and Evangeline seemed to be communicating through their glances, but Cole never understood what they were saying. Thankfully, no one had decided to mention the two of them returning with empty canteens.

Sitting next to the fire made him too hot, but he didn’t want to leave Fay yet. Rhys spoke over the roar, “What is the plan if we do undercover some huge Templar conspiracy? The four of us can’t take it on alone.”

“Of course not. I already sent word to my commander and Leliana about what we found on the coast. Leliana will inform Cassandra, pardon me - Divine Victoria, as soon as she learns of it, I am sure. We already have people on alert at Skyhold. We will definitely have help. I still want to find my clan myself, though.”

Evangeline added her own motivations, “And I would like to check on my friend. I really do fear for her safety.”

Fay nodded her approval and reached to touch her shoulder in a gesture of comfort, “Of course, Evangeline. We will be sure to do that, too.”

Cole was exceedingly grateful that the two had seemed to put their first impressions aside and get to know each other. He knew both girls could be bullheaded, but they were also good, caring people who will give others a chance. It made this trip a lot more bearable.

He watched her as Fay chewed on dried fruit. He observed the way her lips moved around the pieces when she deposited them into her mouth. She kept passing glances his way. Every time their eyes met, he felt his heart jump into his throat.

Cole tried desperately to conceal his now admittedly reignited interest. He really wanted a repeat performance. He had never actually kissed anyone before, but now he understood why people thought about it so much.

When everyone got up to go to their tents, Cole continued to sit in front of the fire, deep in thought. What did come next? Wasn’t he supposed to do something now? Was she waiting on him to make his move? How does one even make a move? What is a _move_?

All he knew that his pants were becoming too tight and uncomfortable. He was getting hard again. A rather bothersome side effect of being human, he decided. It never disturbed him as much as it did now.

He missed her already. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep tonight. He was so tired of dreaming of nightmares from his past. Making a decision, he went to his tent and dug through his belongings. He found the object he was looking for wrapped in cloth. He clutched it tightly in his hand and made his way over to Fay’s tent. He was going to make his move. Hopefully it would be well received.

* * *

 

**_Oh Cole. You dirty, dirty demon-man. Just what are you planning on doing in that tent, hm? Playing cards?_ **


	13. Chapter 13

****SMUT WARNING****

**Gosh, that is my _favorite_ kind of warning. ;)**

**This entire chapter is smut and can be skipped if that’s not what you are into.**

**I know I just updated earlier today, but I already had this chapter written and I feel like I need to just bite the bullet. I’m nervous as shit because I have never written smut before, much less put it on the internet for the world to see. *gulp* Be gentle with me. It is my first time, after all. ;) <3 LOVE YOU GUYS!**

 

* * *

 

**THIRTEEN**

He sat on his knees beside her bedroll. Licking his lips, he waited patiently as her eyes adjusted to the light to make out his shape in the dark. He dug into one of his pockets and pulled out the glowstone wrapped in cloth. Removing its covering, he gently sat it down beside him, illuminating the tent. Now he could clearly make out her face, the creases still formed on her face from sleep. Beautiful violet eyes blinked at him.

“Cole?”

He swallowed hard. He was so sure of what he was doing before he got here and woke her up. Now he was second guessing himself.

“I…” she didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence.

He reached out to touch her cheek then, slowly stroking it with shaky fingers. She took a sharp intake of breath and he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. She gently brought his thumb between her teeth and ran a pink tongue over it. He shivered.

He wanted to do so many things to her at once.

“I want…I need…You make me…”

What was he trying to say? He couldn’t think straight anymore. He ran his thumb down her chin, and then softly ghosting his fingers down her neck, leaving her with chills across her skin, stopping at her collarbone.

Violet eyes were darkening into something he didn’t know. She whispered in a low, quivering voice, “What do I make you do, Cole?” The way she said his name was…sweet, smoky, _suggestive_. He felt a jolt flow through him.

“You make me want you. I want to touch you… _taste_ you...”

She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving with each intake. He could see that she was only wearing her small clothes, a small binding the only thing between his hands and her breasts. Fingers slowly moved down her chest, across the swell of her skin. He could see the nipples hardening at the peaks, and he hesitantly ran a finger over one of them, barely leaving a trace of pressure. She made a soft noise, almost like a mewing kitten, and arched her back, pushing herself closer to him. He could feel his breath quicken. Blood rushed from his head. He felt dizzy with need.

She arched her back further and used an arm to undo the binding, removing them, and exposing herself to him. Cupping one mound of flesh with his hand, he leaned his face closer to her. Her breast was so soft and _perfect_. The aroused nipple hardened further in his palm with his touch. With hooded eyes and lower lip pulled between teeth, she let out a breathy plea, “Creators, please… _Cole_.”

He wasn’t sure what she was asking for, but he could feel her desires as they swarmed his already lust clouded mind. She wanted him to touch her, too, with his mouth, with his hands, with his…

She lifted her hips from the ground and pushed her leggings down to remove the last bit of her clothing. Completely naked under his gaze now, she sat up to grasp the end of his tunic and pull it over his head, running her small hands over his bare chest and stomach. She pulled him forward toward her face and planted soft bites on his lower belly, using her tongue to follow the line of light blond hairs leading down his pelvis. Hairs stood on end from the cool air and her roaming fingers. If she kept that up, he was going to go mad.

He pushed on her shoulders until she returned to the position on her back. He nudged her legs apart with his knees and situated himself on top of her, resting on his elbows. He looked at her, tenderly caressing her cheeks. She looked so beautiful with her skin flushed and her eyes delirious.  

He lowered himself to her face, gently pressing his closed lips to her mouth. She barely opened her mouth and let a shy tongue out to lightly lick his lips, coaxing him to let her in. He obeyed, and was surprised to find that he made a growl low in his throat in response. He moved his hand to the back of her head, opening his mouth further and deepening the kiss. His tongue explored the untested territory of her mouth with eagerness. So far she was reacting with unbidden excitement, digging her nails into his back, rolling her hips against him. The warmth radiating from between her legs was making him lightheaded.

With a small whimper of protest on her part, he pulled away from her and moved to lay beside her. She looked almost hurt in her eyes. He reassured her.

“I just want to see you. I want to watch you.”

She looked as if she was going to respond, but he hushed her by trailing his fingers down her body. He traveled through the valley between her breasts, down her stomach, until he finally reached the place she wanted him to touch most of all. His fingers brushed through her soft, sparse hairs until he encountered the wetness he was looking for. He parted her folds gently, not really sure what he was supposed to do now. He never was able to see the mages at the Spire do this up close. All he ever saw was their hands moving and roaming and the women arching against the wall, heads rolled back and moans escaping their lips. Up until now, he was mostly following a base instinct with Fay. He looked at Fay’s face, which was both relaxed and full of expectation. His voice was much more brittle than he anticipated.

“C-can you show me what to do now?”

She smiled at him, a real genuine smile from her heart, only it was lightly concealed by arousal. She spread her legs further apart and grabbed his hand that was still resting between her legs. She guided him up a little further, letting him feel a small, hard nub hidden toward the top of her folds. She used his hand to rub herself there, increasing pressure until her breathing was erratic in his ears.

“You…you can touch me…there…and…”

Then she lowered his hand, until he felt her skin give under his fingers, lightly entering her body. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

“…and in there.”

He swallowed hard, producing more saliva from both nervousness and desire. He sat back on his knees again, wanting to get a better look at her face, to watch and listen to see when he was doing something she liked. Her body was covered by a thin sheen of sweat and lightly shined in the light of the glowstone.

He pushed one finger all the way into her, immediately feeling her walls tighten around him. He gently slid a second one in. He curled his fingers up inside her, immediately hitting a soft, spongier spot that felt different from the rest of it.

“Oh…fuck! Yes!”

He looked at her with a wary smile, and used his free hand to touch his shaky pointer finger to his lips. “Shhh…don’t want to wake Rhys and Evangeline…” She nodded and bit on her lower lip hard, but somehow small moans were still able to escape once he started moving his fingers again. She rose her hips to grind herself against his hand. He desperately wanted his hand to be another part of his body, but he also wanted to please her more.

He wanted to try something else he had seen.

He slowly pulled his fingers out of her body and brought them to his face. They were covered with her fluids. He ran his tongue over his wet fingers to gather some in his mouth. It tasted like nothing he had ever had before - salty but sweet at the same time. It tasted like her and he decided he liked it _a lot_. Fay was watching him like a predator, completely transfixed by the erotic display.

He positioned himself between her legs again, using his hands to keep her thighs as far apart as they would go. He used his thumbs to lightly spread her folds open for him to gain better access. Not minding the awkward angle of his neck, he lowered his face to her center, licking up her slit in one swipe. The smell of her was heavy and musky. He heard her slap one hand over her mouth to quiet her moans and felt her other hand on the back of his head, weaving through his hair, digging fingers into his scalp trying not to cry out. He stilled her quaking thighs with his hands, pushing her hips firmly to the floor while he ravaged her core. Concentrating on the tiny bundle of nerves she showed him before, he rolled his tongue across and gently sucked it with his lips. He moved one hand from her thigh and used two fingers to enter her heat again. An intense fire blazed low in his belly and he pleasantly tingled. But he missed her face…her eyes.

He moved his face away from her but replaced his tongue and lips with his thumb and continued to apply pressure there. Her face was twisted in pleasurable agony, mouth agape under her hand, back arched. Not being able to stand it anymore, he freed himself from the confines of his pants, using the other hand that wasn’t working on her to stroke himself. He touched himself, wrapping his hand around and moving up and down his hard shaft. He was going to break.

He lowered his face to her ear and whispered

“I want you to look into my eyes.”

She slowly opened them. Her eyes were so dark he could no longer make out the violet in them. His chin and mouth glistened with her juices. She moved to lick some of herself off of his face, kissed him hard, and pulled back to keep eye contact with him. Cole could feel her holding herself back. He spoke through clinched teeth, trying desperately not to finish before she did.

“Burning, raw, vulnerable – _I don’t want to lose control, lose myself._ You can let go, Fay. It’s just me. I would _never_ hurt you.”

It seemed to be all the encouragement she needed. Throwing her head back, she began to pulsate around his fingers and tighten, as if she was trying to draw him further in. She let out a moan and peaked, all while still looking into his eyes. It was so beautiful it made his chest ache and burn. He relished her unwavering trust in him. He was completely mesmerized by the look of her bliss as it overtook her. He drank it up every last drop of her pleasure from his touch.

He couldn’t hold back any longer. He shattered then. He let out a strangled groan and covered her belly and chest with his release, completely emptying himself. When he finally stopped trembling, he looked back down at Fay. She was gazing at him with a soft, loving expression on her face. She cupped his cheek and her lips tenderly found his again.

“Thank you, Cole. That was…incredible.”

He nodded, unable to speak for his unsteady breathing. Using the cloth that carried his glowstone, he cleaned the remains of his climax off her body. Tossing the dirty rag aside, he laid beside her, wrapping her in his arms protectively. It was then that he finally found his voice again.

“You are incredible.”

They both fell into a deep sleep, not even considering the consequences of being caught naked together in the morning.

 

* * *

 

**_I guess it is time to move this up to “E”  rating xD_ **

**_I didn’t actually set out to write smut in this story. It just kind of progressed that way naturally._ **

**_But seriously, did you guys notice something very Asunder-esque?_ **

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Because I am quoting _Asunder,_** **I would like to stress again that I make no money from writing this story. It is purely for my own sick amusement. ;D**

* * *

 

_“Look at me,” he asked her._  
She blinked in confusion, but complied.  
“No, look at me.”  
And she did. The girl looked at Cole, looked into him. He was going to kill her, and she knew it. He went through life, unnoticed and quickly forgotten by all, but to her, at that moment, he was the most important thing in the world. She knew what he was, now. Cole was her deliverance, a way out of a world filled with terror. In those eyes he was anchored, and he felt real.  
“Thank you,” he breathed, and plunged the dagger into her chest.

_\--_ Asunder, Chapter 1, page 20

**FOURTEEN**

Evangeline was sleeping peacefully, head resting on Rhys’ shoulder and full of happy memories. She was dreaming of sparring with her father in the days before she became a Templar and realized how awful the world could be. It was quite pleasant. She missed her father dearly. But then something brought her out of her pleasant reverie. Her eyes opened to semi-darkness of the tent. It sounded off again and she could have sworn it was a scream. She began to stir awake, getting ready go outside and check for the source of the strange noise. Rhys, apparently already conscious, stopped her.

“You may not want to go out there, love. Not sure you will like what you find.” He was grinning up at her impishly, his arms folded behind his head. It was obvious he felt there wasn’t any danger lurking around.

She huffed in resignation and returned to her sleeping position. Slumber wasn’t going to return anytime soon. Now, her curiosity was piqued.

“Should I assume that you know what that sound was?”

He let out a breathless laugh and appeared rather smug just then.

“I have heard that particular song enough times in my life to identify it. That, dear, was the cry of a satisfied woman.”

He looked so haughty she swore even his goatee was being self-righteous. She was letting out a little giggle before when she understood the meaning of his words. Rushing back into a seated position, her eyes wide in shock and confusion, she turned to look at him.

 “What?! And just who do you think is out there getting _satisfied_?” She wanted to smack the look off his face now because it certainly wasn’t _her_ passionately crying out in the middle of the night.

“Our two other companions, of course. Who else?”

She yelped.

“Cole…and the Inquisitor? Are you trying to tell me that you think that they are… _lovers_?”

“Think about it. Really think about it and tell me you don’t see it.”

She did think about it. The signs were there. They were extremely protective of one another, been traveling alone for days and were found wandering in a strange city with no one but each other, expressed a familiarity that was usually reserved for those who have been intimate with one another.

There was also the fact that they went into the woods for a full half hour and returned with nothing but messy hair and flushed cheeks.

“I also may have seen Cole sneaking into Fay’s tent when I went to use the privy,” Rhys deadpanned.

It wasn’t a question now.

“Oh, Maker. Cole is sleeping with the Inquisitor.”

She dropped her head in one hand, attempting to rub the headache threatening to form from her temples.

“It really isn’t horrifying, Evangeline. They are both grown adults who are entitled to a bit of a tryst out in the middle of nowhere.”

While on one hand, she was almost proud of Cole for…consummating his new found humanness. On the other, there was still the question of just how much of a human he is now. Plus, she didn’t know if the Inquisitor was fully aware of his past.

“There’s something else I am concerned with. Do you think the Inquisitor…Fay…knows what he did? At the Spire, I mean.”

Rhys shook his head at her as if the answer was obvious. “She has to know he kills people. He is an assassin.”

“That is not what I mean. There is a huge difference between killing the enemy in a war and killing innocent people in cold blood for your own gratification.”

He sat up on the bedroll. He looked like he was starting to get a headache. She became all too aware of the silence in the night. The noises had ceased.

“It was a lot more complicated than that, Evangeline. You were there. You _know_ he only did it because he was afraid and didn’t know what else to do. I understand because I am a mage, too, but I was taught how to control my magic. Cole had no one!”

It was like Rhys completely forgot about their history with Cole – like he was blinded to the parts he didn’t like.

“That’s right. I _was_ there. I was also there when the Lord Seeker proved that he was either a demon or a blood mage. He even killed him for revealing what he was,” she responded, her voice almost touching anger.

Rhys got visibly upset then. She realized she had crossed a line they had set a long time ago. His voice got a little louder, laced with a little more malice.

“You think _that’s_ why he killed Lord Seeker Lambert? For giving away some big secret that he didn’t even know himself? Did you even consider that he may have done it because the Lord Seeker killed _you_?”

That stung. She honestly hadn’t considered that Cole would have killed him to avenge her own death. She knew she was being too harsh about him. It was just her instinct to think of these things. She would always be a Templar in her heart. It’s so difficult to let go of your nature.

“I’m sorry, Rhys. That was uncalled for. I am not trying to say that I think Cole is some evil, murderous creature. I know Cole has a good heart; I saw what happened to him. I’m just…”

He smiled at her and reached out to touch her shoulder, seeming to forgive her for the outburst, to which Evangeline was grateful. “Your inner Templar is showing.”

“Do you really think he has become more human?” She really thought that was the key to the puzzle.

Rhys considered the question for a moment before answering her.

“Yes. He is still a mystery, but…he definitely seems more a part of this world than before.”

She swallowed hard before continuing. It was going to be hard to bring this topic up, but it needed to be addressed regardless of the discomfort it may create.

“What’s to say, if he isn’t human enough, that sex doesn’t corrupt his nature? There is a very thin line between sex and violence…What if he is using sex, even unintentionally, to feed whatever it is that he is, like the he used the murders at the Spire?”

He exhaled heavily.

“I don’t think that is for us to determine. Even humans use sex as a way to fill some part of themselves that’s missing. Doesn’t mean there is some demonic force behind it.”

He was right. Neither of them would probably ever be able to completely understand Cole or what happened to him at the White Spire – how he died then became what he is now. She doubt that Cole even comprehended the whole of it. They weren’t accomplishing much by sitting around and speculating.

“Will you…just talk to him about it?”

Rhys sighed again, obviously not wanting to comply, but nodded his consent regardless.

 

* * *

 

The next morning proved to not be as awkward as they thought. Since the two of them already knew to avoid Fay’s tent, they were able to give Cole a chance to make it back it to his with minimal embarrassment. It wasn’t difficult; he and Evangeline mostly kept their backs turned toward the fire and pretended not to notice anything.

When the girls decided to actually go find that creek and have a proper bath, Rhys thought now was probably the best time to broach the dreadful subject.

“Cole…can we talk about something?”

Cole was sitting on the ground, fidgeting, sharpening his daggers with a whet stone. He seemed more contemplative than usual, which was really saying something.

“Yes.”

Rhys cleared his throat, unsure of where to begin. This was probably going to be the most awkward conversation he ever had with the young man.

“First of all, I wanted to tell you that…we heard you…with Fay, I mean.”

Surprisingly, one side of Cole’s mouth twitched up at this news, but he continued filing away. “It was hard for her to stay quiet.”

Rhys ran his fingers nervously through his goatee. “Have you slept with her?”

To his great discontent, Cole dropped his dagger into his lap and looked Rhys right in the eyes. “Are you asking if I have slept with her or if I have had sex with her?”

_Oh, great Maker._

Was there anything weirder than hearing the word “sex” come out of Cole’s mouth? If there was, Rhys couldn’t recall at the moment.

“Have you had sex with her, I mean.”

Cole picked up his blade and set to task again, to Rhys’ visible relief. This conversation would much easier without eye contact.

“I wasn’t inside her. She isn’t ready.”

Well, that didn’t mean he still wasn’t sexually active with her. There are plenty of other ways to do the deed besides… _intercourse._

_That must have been some serious snogging._

“Then what was all that ruckus last night?” he asked jokingly but almost immediately realized his error.

Cole titled his head and raised an eyebrow in question, as if he couldn’t understand why Rhys wanted to know. “She really liked it when I used my mouth - ”

He held up his hands to stop Cole from going further. That’s what he gets for asking. Cole will _always_ answer.

“Ok! Ok. I get it. Thank you for clarifying.”

Rhys shook his head, trying to clear the images of Cole and the elf out of his head. He coughed in an attempt to recover from the awkwardness. Cole decided to offer some encouragement of his own.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, Rhys. People are always thinking about sex, even when they don’t talk about it.”

He decided it was probably time to move on from the subject. This was getting mortifying.

“Is it serious…with her?”

“It is to me,” Cole replied in his most serious tone.

 “Do you care about her?”

Cole was taken aback and almost looked offended by the question. “Of course I do.”

The girls could be heard returning to camp then. Rhys had never been so happy to see females in his life.

That might be exaggerating a bit.

 

* * *

 

_14 Days since leaving Skyhold_

_Location: Southern coast of Free Marches, just northeast of Ostwick_

Not much changed over the course of two days. The group made their way closer to the coast, since that is where Faerydae thought her clan would most likely be if they were in this area. Traveling along the rocky shore on their mounts, Faerydae was reminded a lot of the Storm Coast, except with significantly less rain. It was perfectly lovely sunny day and the rays warmed the part of her face that wasn’t pressed against Cole’s back. The trees lining the coast seemed especially green. The Vimmark Mountains were just barely visible in the background. It was all very serene and beautiful.

Cole had been in an incredibly good mood the past few days. He stayed close by Faerydae even when they weren’t riding together on Julie. He sat by her, held her hand, rested his head on her shoulder, and nuzzled her neck. He did this all in front of Rhys and Evangeline, who pointedly avoided gawking at them. At first, she was confused by the sudden display of intimacy, then she remembered that it wasn’t sudden at all.

_Creators, Fay. You let him kiss your most intimate and private parts but you are squeamish of a little public handholding? Just how fucked up are you?_

She was being ridiculous, really. She actually enjoyed the attention he was giving her.

They hadn’t really had a moment to talk about _the incident_ since it happened. It was confusing the shit out of her, anyway. What were they, now? Was he _courting_ her? Thinking about that word made her nauseated. Perhaps she was the anti-Cassandra. Then again, she also kind of wished she could talk to Cassandra right now; she was sure the new Divine Victoria would have some insight into her romantic escapade.

 Her romantic escapade – with Cole. Maybe Cassandra would just berate her for being such an idiot.

_What a fucking mess. Couldn’t just keep your legs closed, could you?_

When Cole came into her tent that night, with the look in his eyes like he wanted to devour her whole, she couldn’t even put up a fight with herself. The rational part of her brain was lost a long time ago when it came to the Spirit Boy. It started from the beginning, when she first met him in her fucking brain. What kind of bloody love story was that? Someone asks ‘How did you two meet?’ and she could say ‘He saved me from a demon by getting inside my head because he was also a demon himself.’ What a shitty joke. Then, she let him stay with the Inquisition, without knowing anything about him, even though he made her entire party uncomfortable. She could have been exposing her mages and everyone else to life threatening danger, but she let him stay anyway.

Because she always had a soft spot for the bizarre man, ever since she saw those haunting blue eyes under that giant, ridiculous hat. It only got worse as time went on. She would literally do anything for him.

Even turn her back on her advisors – and she did.

She is bloody lucky he is such a sweetheart and not a demonic terror.

With that thought, she nuzzled his back with her nose affectionately. No. She couldn’t just keep her legs closed, or her heart either, for that matter.

It was the subject of her pensive thoughts that finally brought her back to the present. Without warning, he gripped his head, crying out in pain. The shock of the pain had hurt him so much he fell off Julie. Faerydae about lost it in a panic.

“Cole?! Cole! Are you ok? Please tell me you are ok! What the hell is happening?!”

He winced in pain, covering his eyes from the sun. Faerydae and Rhys immediately dismounted and ran to him. Evangeline tried to calm down the mounts, who were understandably distressed by the chaos.

“It’s here. It’s awake and it’s loud and it’s hurts!”

She dropped down in the rough sand next to his shuddering form. Faerydae felt anger rise in her. She wanted to kill whatever ‘it’ was just for causing him this much pain.

“What is it, Cole? What’s here?”

Rhys leaned in close to him and spoke to him softly, “Lyrium. It’s lyrium, isn’t Cole? I can hear it, too.”

Cole nodded. “The Red. It’s sharp here. It’s screaming, not singing.”

There is red lyrium nearby and, if she went by Cole’s reactions, a lot more than they were used to seeing. That was not a good sign.

Moving his head to place it on her lap, she gently messaged his forehead and scalp until his pained shouts quieted to whimpers. She felt her heart break in her chest.

In the meantime, Rhys and Evangeline tied the mounts to some trees a bit of a distance away. When they returned, they didn’t bring good news.

“Inquisitor, we have a problem. Rhys and I just spotted a row boat go by. It was decorated with the Templar insignia and it appeared to be at least three or four Templars rowing it. They were carrying open crates of red lyrium.”

Crates? If they were collecting and distributing, that could only mean one thing.

“I think…I think we may have just stumbled onto a mine,” her voice was full of dread, for more reasons than one.

She knew that if there was a red lyrium mine somewhere nearby, it would need investigated. It was obvious that Cole was in too much pain to be able to go; she was going to have to leave him, if only for a few hours. There was no way he was going to let her go without a fight.

“Rhys, is there anything you can do for him, maybe some type of healing magic?” she asked, but didn’t turn her eyes away from Cole.

“Short of knocking him out? Not much. His abilities are…unusual and I don’t have a clue how to heal them.”

Cole sat up, still rubbing his forehead.

“I am fine. I can make it quiet…but then I can’t hear…anything. Just what you say out loud.”

Faerydae bit her lip. She didn’t know what to do with that information.

“Cole…if –“

“No! I know what you are going to say! But I won’t let you go without me!” His jaw was clenched in anger and pain.

Evangeline, feeling like she missed something, spoke up, “Wait. Go where without Cole?”

Cole answered her, “Fay is going to go to the mine.”

Evangeline was horrified by this news. “By yourself?! Inquisitor, do you really think that is wise?”

Faerydae had already made up her mind and, as usual for her, she wasn’t about to change it.

“I just want to find the exact location and estimate the number of Templars there. If we are going to send others in, I want them to be prepared. You and Rhys do not have to come.”

Rhys gripped his staff more firmly in his hand. “Oh, we are coming with you, Fay. Not gonna get rid of us that easy.”

Faerydae helped Cole back on his feet and dusted the sand off them both. He was starring daggers at her. How…uncomfortable.

“Guess we should head out, then. What direction did you say the boat came from?”


	15. Chapter 15

**_Warning: Graphic violence._ **

* * *

 

 

 _“If you want to remember, remember this: if you become Rainier again, I will be there, and I will kill you. And if I become a demon again and hurt people, you will kill me.”_  
  
-Cole to Blackwall during party banter, Inquisition

****

**FIFTEEN**

From the outside, the cave appeared as if nothing was out of the ordinary. It just seemed to be creepy, dark, and dirty like all the others on the shore. The only difference was the makeshift dock built on the mouth of this particular cave. A completely innocent cavern that is somehow the hotbed of evil.

All four of them hid behind a large chunk of rock protruding from the sand a bit of a distance away. Looking carefully from behind their stone protection, it looked dark as far as one could see into it.

“We are going to have to get closer,” Faerydae whispered from her position in the front.

“Of course we are,” Rhys playfully grumbled and rolled his eyes behind her.

Faerydae turned her face to look at Cole, who was located in front of Evangeline, “Are you still doing alright, Cole?”

Cole had a look of grim resolve, “It is much softer, like it is dammed up inside my head but drips of the noise still flow through. I’m fine.”

Faerydae nodded and pointed to the left side of the cave mouth, which looked to have more room for the group to hide behind. She went first, staying low to the ground but holding on to her axe to prevent it from clanking against the metal of her armor. The others followed her in quick succession.

From their new vantage point, she could just make out the faint, eerie glow of the lyrium deposits. Further in was a visible painted skull with a red line slashed through it. They were in the right place. Slowly, the four of them made their inside.

The cave was much larger on the inside than the outside cliffs would have you believe. The inside of the mine was alight with a blue and red glow. Red lyrium veins wrapped around rock columns like ivy. Several half-filled mine carts and crates were littered about the floor. But there still wasn’t any sign of other Templars, or any life, for that matter. She wished she could ask Cole if he heard anyone, but knew that he couldn’t hear them at the moment, even if he wanted to.

But then they heard the strangled shouts of a tortured soul echo through the cave and knew they weren’t alone.

Continuing further into the bowels of the cave, making sure to stay out of sight, they found the source of noise. On the ground lay a dwarven man, face down, back blistered and bloody, hands shakily gripping to a hammer. An iron pick rested within arm’s reach of the man. Hovering above him was a single red templar, eyes and chest colored in red, still holding the black whip that caused the dwarf such pain. That was all Faerydae noticed of the templar before they fell dead to the ground, carotid artery severed and blood flowing freely from his neck. Cole had gotten to him.

“Please! Please, don’t hurt me!” The injured dwarf shouted from the floor, absolutely terrified. Cole leaned down to him and spoke kindly and softly.

“We won’t hurt you. We’re here to help.”

Rhys rushed over, his staff already lit with magic. Slowly, the gashes on his back stitched themselves back together and his cries softened. Faerydae lowered herself to the man’s level on the ground, not wanting him to force himself to prematurely move around and injure himself further.

“What’s your name?”

“Janak. Janak of the village Hady.”

“Are you able to stand, Janak?”

Very carefully, the man tucked his legs under his body to give himself momentum he needed to rise. Cole had grabbed an arm and helped pull him to his feet. He eyed the group suspiciously, “Ya aren’t templars. Who are ya?”

“We are from the Inquisition. My name is Faerydae, this is Evangeline, the man who healed you is Rhys, and the man who killed the templar is Cole. Could you tell us what is happening here?”

“Hady was attacked by templars. The whole village was captured. Some killed, but most were enslaved. We gotta dig for these monsters. They think we can handle the red better, but it ain’t like normal lyrium. It’s deranged.”

“Do you know why your village was attacked?”

“I don’t know, ser. We’re just a small village of dwarfs who left Orzammar and came topside so our women won’t be used as breeders. Only about 25 of us…20 now, plus the children.”

Evangeline stepped forward then, speaking for the first time since they entered, “Why don’t we escort you out of the cave and someone can take you to Ostwick?”

Janak nearly shrank back in horror. “No! No! I must not leave. They got my daughter. Cora’ll be killed if I escape. She is only a babe!”

“We have to help them! They will die here!” Cole shouted in fear, still clutching to the man’s arm.

Faerydae allowed her eyes to visibly soften for the man. “We will find your daughter and the rest of your village. Do you know how many templars are here?”

“I’d say round 30 or so, but they come and go. The Knight-Captain named Weston Rocheteau is the head of em. Real mean son of a bitch.”

She wondered if they could take on 30 armed templars alone. They would have to now that one templar was killed. Janak will be accused of killing him, and that would mean he and Cora’s lives were forfeit. If they didn’t want that fate for this man, they would need to clear the mine.

“Take that hammer with you and stay close to Rhys at all times. He can conjure a barrier to protect you if we run into any marksmen.”

She nodded to Rhys, who walked up to the man to stand close to him.

They followed Janak’s instructions through the next section of the cave. He explained that the miners and templars had moved to the lower levels because they just sent off a shipment and needed to fill more crates. The templars on the row boat would not be back for days.

The mine was huge; quite a bit bigger than the mine on the Storm Coast, which was the only bit of experience that Faerydae had with lyrium mines. It had many rooms within it along with the veins that contained most of the red lyrium. The rooms must serve as offices and quarters for the guards. The dark halls were lit by torches that hung from the walls. The red glow of the lyrium seemed to saturate the entire mine, even the constructed halls. They were currently on the ground floor, and they would have to head down into the mine sublevels to reach the ore zone, where Janak said most of the miners and guards were located.

Faerydae carefully peeked in one of the rooms, but it was empty, all except for some paperwork on the desk. They would have to return for that.

They weren’t as lucky when they reached the next room. In the empty room stood two Red Templar Knights. It appeared that they were having a private conversation. Faerydae paused to think of a strategy. They were unarmed, but she knew that the knights could easily morph into Horrors at will. Horrors are a lot stronger than traditional templars, healed themselves almost instantly, and they didn’t need weapons. Once they change, it is hard to deal any lasting damage. They were going to be a challenge, even outnumbered.

Faerydae turned to Janak and whispered in his ear, “Can people in the lower levels hear what happens at the top?”

He shook his head, “Not really. Only if we are right by the entryway. Otherwise there are a lot of layers for sound to travel through, so it would have to be a pretty loud noise.”

Good. Because it was probably going to get loud and she didn’t want to alert the rest of the mine of their arrival. Not yet.

She immediately heard Rhys set a barrier on Janak and himself. Cole had already disappeared from sight. Evangeline’s sword made a clink noise as she drew it. Faerydae already had her axe in hand. She hoped that Janak would stay behind them.

“We need to try to hurt them as much as we can before they change into Horrors.”

Cole knew this already, but she wasn’t sure how much Rhys and Evangeline knew about fighting Red Templars.

It happened fast after that. The door was wide open and Rhys sent a powerful ball of flame in. Their necks were protected by helmets, so since Cole couldn’t make a quick execution, broke his way through their protection. Evangeline hit one square in the chest and broke through the armor, but the hole in the flesh immediately closed up when she withdrew. Faerydae struck the other in the head with her pommel, disorientating them. They were both still standing, strong and tall, and barely injured. What little skin exposed was already bubbling and oozing with murky goop in nauseating transformation. Both of them stumbled back in agony, momentarily distracted by their own mutations.

The only good thing about their morphing was that it left more skin exposed because their armor gets damaged and falls off in the process. Skin could be penetrated. They could bleed out.

“Split up. Cole, Evangeline, you both take this stunned arsehole. Rhys and I will take the other.”

While half the wounds she was able to inflict almost immediately healed, the other half caused deep, bloody gashes in the templar. Rhys had set it on fire from the front, slowly burning it to death. Tiny red crystals erupted from the surface of its back, flying out and hitting her. Her own armor held and the templar was down, having lost too much blood. When it fell, Faerydae severed its head, killing it.

Meanwhile, Evangeline was making her own progress with Cole. Cole had stabbed it in the chest, but he was grabbed by the neck and thrown roughly across the room. The horror held out its hand, aiming at Cole, generating crystals that flew toward him. As Cole fell back, he flung his dagger, penetrating the monster right in the eye and through his brain. He was dead.

But Cole was injured, limp against the wall.

“Fuck! Cole!”

“I got him! I got him!” Rhys was on his knees, hands hovering over Cole’s stomach where he was hit with the lyrium. Immediately, at least a dozen crystals were expelled from his flesh, and his wounds began to heal. What was left were his damaged leather tunic and bloodied skin. Faerydae fussed over his fallen form like a mother hen.

“I’m fine, Fay. I’m ok.”

Faerydae turned to the dead horror, grabbing Cole’s dagger and dislodging it from its skull. She walked over to him as he rose to get back on his feet, holding his dagger out for him to take. He seized it, gazing at it strangely. Then he ran an index finger along the blade, coating it in the blood and brain matter and rubbing it between his fingers. Bizarre.

Evangeline was looking around her, observing all the blood, shattered armor, and general chaos with disbelieving eyes. “Are the rest of them going to be like these two?”

Faerydae shook her head, “No. These bastards were in the late stages of corruption and were also advanced officers. If I were to guess, I would say they were of the few survivors of Corypheus’ original Red Army.”

Evangeline, having spotted something on the floor, bent to retrieve it from the dead templar’s grasp. It was a letter addressed to Knight-Captain Weston Rocheteau. Positive this is what the templar’s had been discussing before they found them, she read it aloud to the group.

_“Rocheteau,_

_I require a progress report on Guthram._

_Wycome has progressed. Most elves have fled. Humans are still using the well._

_Antoine is dead. We will move on soon._

_-TA. “_

“What’s Guthram?”

Janak answered her, “It’s this mine.”

Faerydae thought for a moment before commenting, “That message is about Wycome. What is this about a well?”

_Most elves have fled._

What they were fleeing from was the question.

She wasn’t sure what it meant, or what their new plans were, but they didn’t have much time to think on it now. Wycome was going to have to wait one more day.

Taking one last look around the room, she motioned for them to continue.

Janak was uninjured, if not rattled. He still led the way through the mine. “We are walking on loose sand, friends.”

It wasn’t long before they ran into more trouble.

Heading their direction were three Red Templar guards, escorting what appeared to be two dwarves: a man and a woman. They were pulling them along roughly down the corridor. Both looked to be in a great deal of pain, bruises dotting most of their exposed skin, blood trickling down their dirtied faces.

Luckily, guards weren’t nearly as difficult to handle as horrors.

Cole had stabbed one right through the heart in a blink. A moment later, Evangeline was upon another’s back, swinging her blade and hitting the back of the neck, completely separating the vertebrae. Rhys had drawn up enough magic to freeze the third one solid, while Faerydae smashed the frozen templar with her axe, causing them to shatter into pieces.

_That will not be pretty when it thaws._

Having heard the commotion in the hall, two more templars exited an office to their left. They heaved their claymores menacingly into the air and charged at the group. The momentum was their advantage.

This bullshit was already starting to get old.

_Ar tu na'lin emma mi._

Faerydae blocked the incoming strike with her shield, but the force of the assault caused her to stumble back, unable to retaliate with a blow of her own. Being nimble as she was, she stuck her leg out, allowing the templar to trip and lose his footing. He fell flat on his back and was dead as quick as she could swing her axe. Quickly turning around, she saw the other templar had already fallen, a victim of Evangeline’s savage strikes.

The bound dwarves were released from their chains and were talking softly to Janak. They were absolutely petrified from what was happening around them. The ringing of blade striking blade was too loud to miss. Surely, the others in the mine had heard it.

In the last five minutes, they had killed eight Red Templars.

Only a couple dozen more to go. She was already completely exhausted and covered in blood, guts, and brains. And now, they had three helpless dwarves to protect and watch over.

She hardly prayed but right now seemed the appropriate time.

_Oh Mythal, watch over us._

She really needed to retire after this.

* * *

 

Translations:

Ar tu na'lin emma mi – I will see your blood on my blade.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes - the title has been changed from "Ghost in Your Eardrum" to "Conventus". This plot bunny wasn't supposed to turn into the beast it has, so there new title to reflect that. 
> 
> Conventus is Latin for coming together or union.

**Special thanks to Hypermuffins for beta-ing this chapter. She's a doll and has a great Colemance of her own, “Misadventures in Another World”. Go read it!**

**MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: Graphic violence, a lot of death, a lot of blood, _a lot_ of sad. This is a very dark chapter. But this will be as dark as I go. I promise some lovely, cutesy Colemance next chappie.**

**As always, feedback is appreciated! :D**

**______________________________________________________**

 

_Cole sighed in frustration. “Sometimes I feel like I’m underwater, and I won’t ever get out again. I just keep sinking and sinking, and there’s no bottom. The darkness is going to swallow me up.” He stared at the floor, embarrassed. “I’m falling into the cracks between what’s real and what’s not real, and if I don’t stop myself I’ll be lost there forever. The only way I can stay is to…”_

**_kill_ **

-Asunder, Chapter 4, page 70

**SIXTEEN**

Blood smeared fingers tucked absently on a loose piece of leather. The skin below it was healed, but covered in faint scars, like one might have from measles. He wondered if they would always remain - not that it mattered. It just added to the growing collection. He watched Fay take deep, heaving breaths. She was tired. Almost all of them were.

Cole was not tired. Cole was _ready_. The coppery smell from the blood and death pushed him ever forward. Encouraged him. Comforted him. Cole was so rarely comforted.

The notable exception was Fay herself. She was solace in his shadows. Her scent, her hair, the feeling of her skin pressed against him. The way she tasted. It was all so wonderful. It was much preferable to blood.

But he didn’t have Fay coating his fingers. Blood was what he had right now.

Blood was life. It held a promise of power - was the fuel to which all living animals used. People were made from flesh, bone, and blood. Blood marks bonds between families and nations. When nothing else of a person remains, their blood does, through generations of offspring.

Blood had its own song; a melody which was closely related to the song of magic itself.

Cole wondered how crazy he sounded in his head right now.  He had been careful not to announce thoughts of this nature aloud. He had enough sense of his humanity to understand how all of it may sound to other people. He didn’t need to give anyone more ammunition.

They left the shells of the fallen templars behind as they made their way down to the next floor. There wasn’t the luxury of a staircase; it was just a pile of rubble that you had to carefully navigate to avoid a stone avalanche. It wasn’t much of a challenge for Cole’s agile physique.

He wasn’t sure what they would discover when they made it to the second floor. He did not think it would be empty, but that was how they found it. The large atrium was unoccupied save for the empty trolleys leaning against the cave wall. The room did contain plenty of raw ore. Cole usually liked the color red, but not the peculiar crimson gleam from the corrupted lyrium. The brightness of the glow only painted the world in a perverted darkness. At the other end of the room was a set of large, wooden double doors.

They opened. That was how it started.

Arrows flew out toward them in mass, but his group managed to dodge them or block them. Cole immediately cloaked himself into the shadows. It is much harder to hit what you can't see. He darted forward, heading straight for the rush of templars making their way into the room, careful to avoid the timid dwarves following in their wake.

He struck one templar in the back with his dual blades.

He swung around in time to hit another across the throat.

He was able to flank another before the first one fell.

It went on like that: stab, slice, swing, spin.

It was a well-choreographed dance. Muscle memory replaced rational thought in these moments. It was for the best.

He paused long enough to notice a loose pillar of lyrium deposit fall from the cave ceiling to impale a templar beneath it. Yet another lost their arm to Evangeline's sword. Rhys's magical energy filled the room. More than one enemy was set on fire in a cloud of white light.

Warm blood splattered from a templar he had wounded and onto Cole's lips. It tasted like metal. There wasn't much else interesting about it.

He gutted another with the speed and grace of a halla. Sanguine fluid poured from the wound to splash on the floor. It stained the leathers of his pants.

The room smelled almost like rust collecting on an iron pipe. It made Cole's head spin.

Actual fighting lasted no longer than a minute, but the time stretched on forever; it reminded him of the fade. The minutes were distorted and twisted until they were  unrecognizable.

Screams could be heard across the room.

And then, it was silent.

Cole tracked his eyes across the scene to evaluate his surroundings. Many dwarves were down in various stages of deformity, lives forever cut short due to senseless violence. He felt saddened for a moment. He didn't even know them before they were killed. What a horrible waste of life. All of these red templars had been dealt with.

A voice cut through the thick silence like a blade through flesh. It was chilly and it almost sounded _amused_.

"Inquisitor....to what do I owe this honor?"

"You, Knight-Captain, have no honor." Fay was standing by the fallen form of Janak, his body still against the stone floor. He must have went down in the fight. Janak was a good man; he didn't deserve this. None of them did.

In front of the open doors stood a man, tall, sophisticated, and confident like he just walked out of an Orlesian ball rather than just slaughtered a whole village of innocents. It was the Knight-Captain - the man who ran this awful place - Weston Rocheteau. His laugh boomed across the hall and through his ears. The coldness of it made Cole shudder.

"If you say so. Same could be said of you. Just look at the number of kills you have to your name today. And most of them with families who will miss them. How am I so much worse?"

Fay let out a horrifying, blood curdling screech, charging forward in the direction of the Knight-Captain. Cole caught her in his arms before as she passed him. She wasn't in the right state of mind to fight this man. He didn't need to read her thoughts to know she was mourning the loss of their ill-fated comrades. She would carry the burden of their deaths for some time. He felt so wretched as she cried out in anguish, grief pouring from her like her tears, pulling against the strain of his arms that held her tightly.

The Knight-Captain was became impatient and frowned down at the two of them. "Can someone who is not so _sentimental_ please explain to me why you broke into my mine and killed my men?"

Evangeline spoke up this time, "Your kind could hardly be called men. We came to free these helpless dwarves from an eternity of cutting rock for you!"

The Knight-Captain gave her a smug look. "Seems your plan wasn't so successful, unless you call their unfortunate deaths some form of freedom?" The man had the audacity to beam at her.

But this wasn't a man. Cole could feel it. This was a demon.

There were only a few of the slaves left standing, having survived the fighting. One woman spoke up, "Our children! We want our children!"

Knight-Captain waved his hand dismissively. "I have no use for them. You may take them off my hands."

He stepped aside, pressing his hand against a plain looking rock along the wall. The wall fell, and behind it stood a cage.The putrid, potent smell of decay immediately filled the air.

Cole felt bile rise in his throat. He let go of Fay and approached the cage in a trance state. He knew what he was going to see. He was very familiar with that smell. He didn't want to see it, but he could not help but torture himself. It was like a nightmare come true - his own nightmare.

Inside the cage were five decomposing bodies. They had been dead for some time, rotting behind the wall while their parents toiled away in hopes of keeping them safe. Their sad, emaciated forms told him all he needed to know about the cause of their deaths.

_He let them starve to death. Alone. In the dark._

A grief stricken mother cried out in agony. More gasps escaped horrified mouths throughout the chamber. One person behind him was retching.

But it was difficult for Cole to hear all the noises around him. He couldn't hear anything over the blood rushing through his ears; nothing made sense over the pounding of his angry heart. He couldn't see anything through the red in his eyes.

Cole let out a raging scream the likes he never released before. He turned swiftly, launching his knives in the direction of the monster masquerading as a templar. Both knives bounced off his armored chest, but Cole was not deterred. He marched over to the beast, looking him right in the eyes, hatred radiating off every pore on his body. The monster just laughed at him.

"Well, I see despair has joined us.”

That caught Cole so off guard he paused in his movements, letting himself lose his footing.

_How did he...?_

“Tell me, boy, were you ever really a demon, or was that your excuse because you were just a mage who was driven _mad_ by his own magic?” The demon spoke as he bent to retrieve one of the daggers at his feet. Cole merely gaped at him.

The demon grabbed Cole, displaying his unnatural strength to the others gathered in the room. He held him in almost a chokehold, not letting him move.

Fay cried out. "No! Don't hurt him!"

The demon raised an eyebrow in her direction, “Ah. Inquisitor, you rather care for this simple-minded fool?” He clicked his tongue, “Couldn’t expect good taste from a knife ear. But now I let you decide: would you rather catch me or save your little lover boy?”

Without warning, he took Cole's blade and cut him across his thigh, severing Cole's femoral artery. Tremendous pain dulled quickly to shock, but Cole couldn't help but emit a loud yowl of pain.

“COLE!”

He was dropped then, along with his knife. Retreating footsteps could be heard echoing in the darkness. The demon was getting away. He was going to get away with what he did to those children.

Fay was over him, pressing her bare hand to his inner thigh in a desperate attempt to stop the blood flow. Her cheeks shined with fresh tears. She quickly ripped the rest of his tunic off of him and wrapped it around his leg in an effort to create a makeshift tourniquet. Cole tried to shake his head, but simply did not have the energy.

"Go...after him. He will get away..." he barely managed to get out.

Fay was hysterical, her hands trembling. "I don't give a right piss about that buggering fuck!”

Rhys was with her then, applying every healing spell he could think of to stop the bleeding. His spells were weaker than usual; he had used a lot of mana during the fight.

But Cole couldn't be angry or disappointed. This death felt so much nicer than his first. He could accept this.

The life began to drain out of him.

He resigned to his fate.

When he was too weak to keep his mental shield that blocked the red lyrium erected, it came down in a tumbling heap. On top of it all was the sad song of a lost soul; a soul that reminded him very much of himself.

_Ravenous, rage...she cries softly into his ripped shirt...terror, panic...this must be a bad dream...no, Cora, they remember, Da loves you..._

_Deep cuts are raw with infection, she's trembling, legs heavy, stomach empty, hollow in the space where the laughs once were._

_Calm resignation, he holds her as she slips away. Is this what is like to die? Surrender... I'm sorry, Janak. I'm sorry, Da. Then nothing._

Fay's voice was far away, "Cole, no! Don't you dare! Come back, _please_! Oh Mythal, please don't take him from me." Hot tears dripped onto his face as she bent over his form, placing soft kisses on his forehead.

He felt rather than heard her next words, _Ma garas mir renan. Ara ma'athlan vhenas_ _..._

_I'm so sorry, Fay._

Then the world went black.

* * *

 

**Translations:**

_Ma garas mir renan. Ara ma'athlan vhenas._ \- Follow my voice. I will call you home. (From the Dalish lullaby)

 

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pfft. Of course he’s alive. You guys think I am demented or something? Heh heh heh (don’t answer that). As promised, cute & cuddly smut. :)

****SMUT WARNING****

**Smut scene is in the second half of the chapter and is separated by a page divider.**

* * *

 

**SEVENTEEN**

_16 days since leaving Skyhold_

_Location: Traveler’s Inn, Coast of Free Marches near Ostwick_

The sun had finally set, drawing the awful day to a close. Candles illuminated the room with a weak, golden incandesce. Faerydae sat next the bed, in a chair beside the only window in the room. The open window allowed the cool ocean air to drift into their room. It tickled her damp skin. She wasn’t able to stand the physical feeling of death all over her, so she had a bath once it was clear that Cole was stable. She could hardly stay away from him long enough to use the privy without panicking. After her bath, she changed into a simple cotton gown that allowed her to feel the salty air blow the fabric against her. It was calming. She needed all the calm she could get.

The past couple of hours had been pure hell and one of the worst experiences in her entire life. The mission into the Guthram Mine had been a disaster. Of the 25 people they were trying to rescue, only eight survived the conflict. It could hardly be called survival for the two sets of parents that now outlived their children. They had investigated the cell behind the wall and there wasn’t a single crumb of food in the place. The children were most likely locked up the night the village was captured and left there to die. Those parents would have to spend the rest of their lives with the knowledge that their children starved to death and all of their work had been in vain. She could hardly tell if they were grateful or disappointed they lived.

Luckily for them, a couple of Inquisition officers had been stationed in Ostwick, so they were able to escort the remaining villagers back to Skyhold. Faerydae wanted to ensure their safety and comfort. It was the least she could do since she didn’t do much else except ruin their lives. Guilt was eating her alive.

She also sent word of the mine to Leliana and Cullen. She hadn’t heard back from them since she left Skyhold, but they hardly stayed in one place long enough. Hopefully they would have reinforcements. She couldn’t keep putting her group in danger. This last time had been too close of a call for Cole.

For now, they returned to Ostwick. Cole was too injured and too…comatose to go further. They were staying here until they were sure he could walk properly and hold his own. His recovery from the injury he sustained was unpredictable. Rhys did the best he could, but since he couldn’t rapidly apply his strongest healing spells, there was likely to be lingering damage. Rhys about exhausted himself just sealing the wound.

Cole was laying on the only bed in the room, his form covered by a thin blanket. He hadn’t stirred since he fell unconscious at the mine. At first she was concerned that he hadn’t woken once Rhys repaired his wound and the bleeding had ceased. However, she realized what happened to the children at the mine probably caused some really awful memories to resurface. She was sure he just didn’t want to wake up yet. It wasn’t clear how he would react when he did finally open his eyes.

Meanwhile, Faerydae really took her time to look at him. He was naked from the waist up. She had cleaned the blood from his body the best she could in the state he was in and changed him into a pair of Rhys’s leggings. They were slightly too big on him and hung loose around his hips. He was still much too small, but it wasn’t like Faerydae had any meat on her bones to brag about. His face was relaxed, dark circles beneath his eyes diminished due to the candle light or maybe due to rest. His skin still looked so pale, but it was covered with the scars of war, the many wars he had to fight throughout his life. Overall, he really just looked broken and lost.

He was a beautiful kind of broken.

His blue eyes blinked open then to see her. She smiled and brushed his face gently with her fingers. His breathing was steady and he appeared aware, adjusting to his surroundings.

“Hello, Cole. How are you feeling?”

He gazed at her face for a moment before answering, recognition in his eyes but pain coloring his features.

“I feel alive.”

She didn’t know how to reply to that. She didn’t know how to make it better. She wished for a moment that she had his special gift of reading minds, of being able to enter someone’s heart directly to heal them.

“Where are they?” he asked.

“Skyhold.” She really didn’t want to talk about it. Not yet.

He nodded and looked down at the blanket, twirling a loose thread around his index finger.

“Where do you think Solas went?”

Solas? What an odd question to ask out of the blue.

“I’m not sure. He completely disappeared without a word.”

He cleared his throat and tightly shut his eyes.

 “He was attracted to you.”

Faerydae blushed hotly from that comment. “I…uh…”

Cole interrupted her, eyes still shut. “He used to think about how you weren’t like most of the Dalish. You were different – you questioned their stories and beliefs. He found you very distracting, but he didn’t want to be distracted from what he needed to do, or from his shame. He wanted to wear his shame like a cloak so he wouldn’t ever forget. He wouldn't have told you because he thought you were much too young for him. His pain is very…old.”

Faerydae snorted at that. What a ridiculous assumption on Solas’s part. She was also glad he kept his feelings to himself. She liked the elf, but he seemed too arrogant. He could never be wrong about anything, even when he was. Still, he didn’t seem more than 10 or 12 years older than her. That wasn’t a huge difference in the grand scheme of things.

“Solas can’t be _that_ much older than me.”

Cole didn’t reply to that. He only let out a sigh. 

Why was Cole telling her any of this? What brought it up?

But she never got the chance to ask because he rapidly changed the subject again.

“I had a dream about Bunny.”

That was a more expected topic. She hoped it was a happy dream, but steeled herself for the painful discussion.

“Tell me about it.”

This time he looked at her. “We were outside in the field. She had a glass jar and she used it to catch fireflies. And she brought it to me to show me how brightly it glowed, and she said ‘Look, Cole! It’s magic! I made magic just like you!’ She wanted…she wanted to be a mage like me…she wasn’t afraid of me…” The sadness in his blue eyes was both heartbreaking and breathtaking. A single tear fell from his eyes and he bit his lip while his jaw trembled. “Everyone…is always afraid of me. Even Rhys. I’m…dangerous. I try and try to help the hurt to erase what I did before, but nothing makes it go away.” He choked. “But Emeline…she just loved me anyway. She is the only one who ever has.”

She joined him on the bed, gently wrapping him in her thin arms. “I’m not afraid of you, Cole.”

“I know. You…never were,” he said simply before continuing, “They were all afraid of me. Ever since I came into this realm, all the people I care most for had wanted to kill me…But you – you protected me. You gave me a home when I had nowhere else to go.”

She nervously looked to her lap before pulling away from him and picking at her nails. He spoke up again.

“Why?”

The knot in her chest was becoming suffocating. She let her own tears escape. She didn’t know why she was crying. She cried too much lately. She cried more than she ever had.

Creators, she was fucking hopeless.

But she didn’t answer him. Truthfully, she had no real answer. Or maybe she did, but she just didn’t want to acknowledge it. She felt him bring his fingers up to gently wipe the tears from her face. He was still quivering.

“I’m sorry. My question…hurt you. I can feel the pain. I never want to hurt you.”

She covered her mouth with her hand to silence the sob that escaped her then. Everything…everything he did made her chest hurt worse. It twisted her heart and pulled at her stomach.

“No…no, Cole. You are fine, it isn’t…isn’t you.”

“Look at me, Fay.”

She did. He looked at her with such passion that it left her breathless. Somehow, he was consuming her. She swallowed, nervous saliva collecting in her mouth. But he wasn’t looking at her anymore. No – he was searching her, gazing right through her and into her soul.

She usually thought of Cole as very young. He died when he was just a boy, and then wandered around the living world for who knows how long before being discovered. Sometimes she thought of him as no older than her own 18 years. He could even be younger than that. But it was different now. Right then he looked as old as the stars.

And then he did something incredible.

He smiled.

“Your song is like nothing I ever heard before – not even in the Fade. It covers me like a blanket, soft and warm and shielding me from the winter. It’s always with me, even in my dreams. It gets louder all the time. It is so beautiful. I never want to silence it.”

Faerydae didn’t understand why, but she felt as if what he just told her was the most important thing anyone has ever said to her. She looked away from him and struggled to reel in her pain and keep it private.

“Please don’t hide, Fay. You can’t hide from me.”

 

* * *

 

_by[Hypermuffins](hypermuffins.tumblr.com)_

He pulled her forward and she stretched out on the other side of the bed next to him. She felt strange pressed against him. She was only wearing her cotton gown and he was only wearing thin leggings. She could feel the intensity of his warmth easily through their clothing. He rolled over, facing her and gently cupping her face with his hand. She knew what was coming next – and for once she beat him to it.

She tenderly pressed her lips to his. This kiss was different from the last two; it was slow and sensual and held more words than a novel. It whispered secrets neither of them were willing to reveal, pressed their feelings into their mouths and their motions.

He leaned over her, pushing her down against the pillow, face still hovering over her. They didn’t break and the kiss began to morph into something frantic and desperate. All Faerydae needed to think of was how she almost lost him earlier that day and the invisible string that dangled between them drew tighter. He was never going to leave.

He pulled away from her mouth. “I won’t abandon you.” It made her heart flutter.

She moved her face to his neck, running her tongue experimentally across his salty, prickly skin. He hissed and stiffened in response. She grazed her teeth lightly over him and then bit down a little harder. He shuddered, “ _Yes_. Pain turns to pleasure there.” Every action had a reaction and she smiled against his neck. Getting to know his body was a delicious experiment.

His hand moved from her face to her shoulder. When she kissed up his neck and shifted her tongue under his human ear, he dug his fingers into her skin, lightly scratching her with uncut fingernails. She didn’t mind the sting at all. Pain was turning to pleasure.

When she met his mouth again, he emitted a deep growl from the back of his throat and opened for her. This time she wasn’t as shy as she was before because that fire burning hot in her chest and in her belly and _between her legs_ was melting her nervousness into desire. She could feel the wetness collect on her inner thighs whenever Cole stroked her tongue with his. She spread her legs and rested one thigh against him, attempting to relieve some of the pressure that was building in her.

“Your happiness builds with mine, swimming together in a current that pulls us under the waves. I want you, too.”

He seemed to read her mind, _because of course he would_ , and slid his hand from her shoulder down the sides of her body, the curve of her waist, to her hips. He gathered the edge of the cotton gown in his hands and she sat up, letting him pull it completely off of her.

She lay back down beside him, taking deep breaths to slow her quaking heart and stomach. He looked down at her, blue eyes bright with power and lust, and she almost lost it then. Just from the way he was looking at her – like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“You _are_ the only thing that matters.”

_Oh, Creators._

His voice was husky and breathy and she wanted to hear him say her name.

He leaned over her again, his hands between her legs. “Faerydae… _Ma vhenan_ …” Her head rolled back at his elven endearment. She felt electricity running through her veins in a current when his fingers touched her center. Cool fingers entered her heat and she saw sparks behind her eyelids. Her hands yearned to reach out to him, to feel him. She opened her eyes. He licked his lips and she felt another jolt run through her. She could see him straining against the thin material of his leggings. They concealed very little from her.

“Cole, please let me touch you.”

He looked up at her sheepishly and nodded slowly, standing to remove his leggings. For the first time in her life, Faerydae saw a fully naked man. And he was beautiful. He wasn’t a picture of perfection, like a statue or a painting. He was _real_ and alive and made for her. Light blond hairs grew from his bellybutton and trailed down his stomach until they mixed with his pubic hair. She could see the recently healed dark purple scar on his inner thigh. She gently touched his stomach with her fingers. He stopped breathing and watching her with wide eyes, self-consciousness shining through. Her fingers traveled through the line of hair there, lower and lower. Cole struggled to figure out what to do with his hands and they balled into fists at his sides.

She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly very dry. She finally gathered her courage and hesitantly touched two fingers to the tip of his cock, fascinated by the drops of moisture that gathered there. She could finally whisper it in her head – _his cock_. He looked away from her, biting his lip and panting softly. She wrapped her hand around his entire crown then, using her thumb to spread the fluid around the tip. She wondered how something so hard could be so soft. Cole’s head dropped back and he faced the ceiling, a small moan escaping his lips. He was letting her take her time, but it was obviously torturing him. She slide her hand down his shaft, gently squeezing then. Cole’s hips jutted forward to meet her halfway and he whimpered. “It aches and burns and feels like nothing and everything all at once. You get wet with my fire.”

His reactions to her tentative touches were making her core tighten and her fluid gather on the bedspread. She rubbed herself against the mattress, the tiny bit of friction she received barely relieving any tension. She longed to feel him inside her.

She moved her hand away from him and repositioned herself back down on the mattress, legs spread in front of him. He looked down at her in question.

“Cole, _please_. I want to feel you inside of me.”

His mouth dropped open slightly and his eyes widened. “It…it might hurt you…” He could barely breathe the words out.

“You don’t have to worry about that. As a child, I loved racing hallas with my best friend. That ship sailed a long time ago.”

He managed to shut his mouth and nod. He crawled across the bed, settling himself between her parted thighs, looking down at her. He reached out again, as if to map out where he was supposed to go, separating her folds with his fingers. His whole body was shivering.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Yes”

And then she felt him against her, her body naturally parting to give him entrance. His eyes tightened and his brow furrowed as he pushed further into her. He questioned her again “Okay?” She moaned in an affirmative reply.

The feeling of him inside of her was too difficult and complex to describe. She felt stretched and full, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He brought his face down to kiss her gently.

And then he moved his hips. Her body was set on fire.

“Cole! Fuck!”

She wrapped her thighs around his waist, completely unintentionally, allowing him to enter her deeper. He moved in and out of her, eyes hooded and dazed. He was mumbling nonsensical words into her ear and kissing the side of her face. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest. Her nails dug into the skin of his back. She couldn’t think straight and words ran together, tangled in her mind.

_Oh-Creators-this-feels-too-good-to-be-real._

She couldn’t help but moan, crying out words she didn’t really recognize nor did even care about.

Sweat was collecting on his brow. He whispered in her ear.

“Your body sings for me, Fay.”

They were moving together now, finding a rhythm that worked for both of them. When he moved a certain way, he would rub against her clit and it made her dizzy. She was almost there. She writhed beneath him, her center pulsating around him, feeling herself come undone, and crying his name out into the candle lit room. He was overwhelmed.

“Burning, like red hot fire, twisting and coiling until it shatters and comes undone. Oh, Maker, _yes_.”

She felt him then, peak inside her, groaning as he climaxed. It was a beautiful sight.

When he stopped shaking, he slowly pulled out of her and collapsed on the bed beside her, grabbing the blanket that had fallen on the floor. He wrapped it around both of their shoulders. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, inhaling the sweet scent of him. She turned up to give him a last kiss goodnight, and she paused. The way he looked at her, full of affection and devotion, made her heart ache again. He kissed her and she rested her head back down against him to go to sleep.

“I love your song.”

* * *

 

_Up next is something I’ve been really ‘cited for - finally finding Clan Lavellan! What on earth are they going to think of Cole?_

_The chapter is going to take a few days to revise simply because of the massive amount of lore I am putting into it. Sheesh._

  
_I'm just gonna hide under my bed now.  Ugh. Posting makes me soooooo nervous._  
  
_Love you all._


	18. Chapter 18

**_Super long note ahead~_ **

**_While most of this story is canon-compliant, the events of “Save Clan Lavellan” war table mission chain didn’t happen exactly the way they did in DA:I. Mostly because I thought it was ridiculous. Pretty much all your decisions ended with the clan’s death. Just slaughter the inquisitor’s entire family and then say nothing of it. Everyone just goes on? Your inquisitor doesn’t even say anything about it. Freaking. Weird. That whole thing was bizarre._ **

**_Anyway, in this story, the bandits did attack the clan, but Cullen sent troops in to stop them, so the connection was never made between them and the Duke. Once the Duke realized what elves he was trying to mess with, he let the clan stay in peace. Similarly, after the defeat of Corypheus, Duke Antoine wanted to make nice with the inquisitor, so he put Keeper Deshanna on the newly formed city council._ **

**_In chapter 3, we found out the Duke died from a mysterious illness and clan Lavellan left Wycome for some unknown reason. We find out why in this chapter._ **

**_All other lore in this chapter is canon!_ **

****

* * *

 

**EIGHTEEN**

_18 days since leaving Skyhold_

_Location: Coast of Free Marches, east of Guthram Mine_

_ _

_By[Sheebah](sheebah.tumblr.com)_

Evangeline wasn’t one to complain. She has suffered through lyrium withdrawal, cuts and gashes, burns from mages. She even died once. She endured pain – she used to be a templar. Pain was an essential part of the job description. But this dracolisk was really beginning to hurt her bum. The saddle on this thing was not meant for two.

Keeping her eyes on the trail in front of her, she daydreamed about the soft, plush fat back of a nuggalope. Julie was looking mighty comfortable. The Inquisitor was draped across Cole’s back. Her eyes had been closed for a while. Perhaps she was napping.

Perhaps she had a long night. Evangeline smirked at that thought.

As for the young man himself, he couldn’t wipe that happy little grin off of his face for anything. He even ate this morning. That was quite a feat.

It was still odd to think about; Cole is actually human. Being interested in sex would only be a natural reaction. It was awkward, for one thing. For another, Cole was much more like her _little brother,_ than anything else. Thinking about her family in such a compromising situation never did her sanity any favors.

This train of thought brought up another point – how could Cole be human? Rhys hadn’t really talked about it but it would seem like he would know, being a spirit medium. She understood how a human gets processed, but how does one go from a demon to a human?

Then, there was Evangeline herself.

_What keeps your heart beating?_

Cole presented a very valid argument in Kirkwall. Was _she_ even really human anymore? Was she an _abomination_? She was similar to Cole now. She died, then a spirit possessed her body and brought her back. She didn’t feel any different than before. She preferred the same foods, still despised fancy balls, and had the same skills. It was like the spirit in her was just a passenger along for the ride.

It was one way she was very different than Cole. Cole murdered innocent people, whether it was by himself or through Rhys was a moot point. It was still Cole who intended to murder, with questionable reasoning.

The silence of the group was becoming oppressive. She needed to occupy her mind with less gruesome thoughts.

She turned to Fay, speaking a little louder than usual to make sure she was heard, "What are you going to do once we find your clan?"

Fay grumbled a little, wiping her face on Cole’s back. Evangeline could have sworn she saw a spot of drool on his leathers. The elf blinked her eyes open and looked half dazed at her. She yawned.

“See why they left Wycome. Get an update.” Another yawn.  “This isn’t really a social visit… so we won’t stay long. Just long enough to get some rest.”

Evangeline nodded quietly in response.

“Don’t worry. I know we still need to make sure your friend is alright.”

She smiled. The Inquisitor hadn’t forgotten they needed to check on the noble. That was thoughtful. Truthfully, the elf really surprised Evangeline. She always heard how the Dalish preferred to live in seclusion and away from other races. She also had the impression they thought they were better than everyone else, but it could also be Chantry dogma. But not Fay. Fay seemed humble and caring. If she was Cole’s lover, then she obviously didn’t share the opinions of her kin on humans.

Rhys spoke up from his position behind Evangeline.

“May I ask you a personal question, Fay?”

She shrugged. “Go ahead. I don’t have any secrets.”

"Maybe this is too private, and feel free not to answer, but...why did you leave your clan? It isn't very common for the Dalish - ”

"I don't want to live in the past," she said, interrupting Rhys before he could finish.

Unfortunately for the rest of them, Rhys was apparently in the mood to press it "You don't believe what they believe?"

"I didn't say I don't believe. I just ask questions."

Evangeline was confused. Challenging current accepted fact is what helps a person learn. It helps whole societies learn. “What’s wrong with questions?” she asked, immediately regretting it.

Fay sighed with impatience.

"The whole point of being Dalish is to hold on to the past – accept what is fed to you and no more – even if it is horseshit. Most Dalish can’t read or write human languages, but our clan does. I educated myself. I read books. I researched. I saw history as written from many points of view, not just our people. I’ve had enough horseshit to last a lifetime."

Rhys sounded apologetic. "Inquisitor, if I offended you..."

She shook one hand in Rhys's direction. “No. No, you didn't do anything. They are the frustrating ones." She sighed again. "Look, the Dalish as a whole believe their way of life is the best way. They don’t want to think they could be wrong about anything, especially history. I’ve seen the damage that kind of thinking can cause with my own eyes. We put ourselves in a protective bubble and pretend no one else in the world exists. It's wrong. That's why I went to the Conclave.”

An awkward silence settled over the group before Fay added without goading, “And the Dalish aren't the only true elves. What the hell makes a true elf? Pointy ears? I don't give a shit about ears. We all live, we all die, we all love, we all fuck. That's what matters to me. I'm no better than you or anyone else."

Evangeline laughed at that statement.

"Then...the tattoos on your face...don't they demonstrate your unity with the Dalish?"

"They represent my faith in the All-Mother, not mortals."

Cole spoke up for the first time then, "You believe in Mythal, but not the same way others do."

"Yes… Mythal is also the Great Protector. I am far as fuck from god-like, but I like to think I do the best I can to protect the people who need it. I guess you can say this _vallaslin_ is to remind me of what I strive to be.”

Thankfully, that was the end of the conversation for now. The rest of the journey was silent until they found a place to camp for the night.

* * *

 

_19 days since leaving Skyhold_

It was quickly approaching the evening when Fay announced she saw the blue lights of her clan ahead. They followed the lights to a clearing in the woods by the shore. Before you could see any of the camp, the ringing of children’s laughter could be heard darting past the trees. When they reached the clearing, Evangeline widened her eyes in surprise. She didn’t expect so many elves in one clan. There were at least 50 people she could see from her position. At the center of the camp was a large bonfire encircled by wooden benches. Elves sat on the benches, mixing something in clay pots and engaging in what appeared to be humorous conversation. Numerous wooden carriages (she knew there was a special name for them, but couldn’t think of it) were scattered across the camp, along with smaller huts and wagons. Crates of water, barrels of food, baskets of seeds and berries were arranged outside the carriages. The air smelled of cooked meat. The entire camp was lit by lanterns glowing with blue flame.

They were approached by an older elven woman with the same unique violet eyes of the Inquisitor. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun. It looked like once upon a time it was as deep of a black as Fay’s, but now it is seems to have faded. She also bore the tattoo Fay had, only hers was more elaborate and covered her forehead as well. Fay shyly stepped out into the front of the group.

“ _Mamae_?”

Without warning, the elf dropped her staff onto the ground and brought Fay into her arms. The two women gripped each tightly in a loving embrace.

“Oh, Faerydae! _Ma enansal! Da'mi! Ma vhenan!_ I was so afraid you found danger. It has been weeks since I sent the letter.”

Fay pulled back out of the woman’s arms. “Eh. We definitely found danger, but I will tell you about it later.” She turned to introduce the rest of her party. “Mama, this is Cole, Rhys, and Evangeline. Guys, this is my mother, Keeper Deshanna.”

The elven woman bowed respectfully. “ _Aneth’ara,_ my friends. Welcome.”

Another man, this one much paler and taller than the keeper, walked up behind Deshanna. He looked at the newcomers with distain and distrust, squinting his eyes and inspecting them thoroughly.

“ _Garas quenathra shem_?”

Cole, ever the helpful boy he is, responded to the man, “You don’t have to be afraid of us. We are here to help.”

The elven man eyed Cole suspiciously, but nodded his head.

“Yewen, these _people_ are here escorting Faerydae.”

He grunted but appeared to relax.

“Friends, this is my very rude First, Yewen.”

A much older man with greying hair walked over to them. Three children of various ages followed him. This man appeared quite friendly, and even smiled.

“I’m Shihon. I teach lore and language to the children…and these are a few of my current students – Nel, Garron, and Anissa.”

Before Evangeline could let out her own social niceties, Fay was talking again.

 “I’ve missed you, Mama. I’ve missed all of you. But the reason we have come is not for a visit. We need to know what is happening in Wycome.”

All of the elves in front of them, even the children, wore grim faces at hearing the name of their old city.

“I knew you would come. You always tell me not send sensitive information through written correspondence, so I am sorry you had to travel all this way - ” the keeper was quickly interrupted by the sounds of excited youngsters eager to impress the Inquisitor and the humans.

“The city council is corrupted! Duke Antoine died, and elves are being blamed for his death!”

“They call it the ‘knife-ear plague.’ Only humans have gotten it. They are blaming the elves in the city-“

“Most fled by the time we left!”

“It is such a strange disease. We have never seen anything like it.”

“-we asked the city elves if they had any idea, but they claim to have nothing to with it.”

“They think elves are poisoning humans in an attempt at an uprising!”

Deshanna finally had enough and raised her voice, waving her hands in the air to get their attention. _“MANA! BANAL!_ You would think I am actually Keeper around here!”

A chorus of apologizes sounded from the group. Deshanna just shook her head and looked to Fay.

“ _Da’mi,_ I do not think we should take everything at face value. There were whispers of a templar revolt among the nobles. I believe this is connected.”

Fay nodded. "You are right, Mama. It is connected. Another faction of Red Templars has organized and they have been receiving support from nobles across Thedas. We...we found a mine...” Fay had to stop to keep herself from getting so emotional in front of so many people.

The keeper looked at her daughter with sympathy, “I’m sorry. We can discuss more details later. It is getting close to dinner and story anyway. Why don’t you go see Larana? She would be really upset if you didn’t go find her first thing.”

“Oh, yes! You are right!”

Fay hurried off in a different direction while the rest of them scrambled to keep up with her.

Behind most of the tents was a makeshift fence. In it were at least a dozen halla. Near the fence stood a woman who seemed to be talking to one of the mounts.

Fay immediately made a run toward the woman as soon as she was in view.

Right then Evangeline realized how very young the Inquisitor was. Yet she carried a great responsibility, the safety of the world, on her shoulders. This same girl was also the woman who defeated a dangerous darkspawn magister. She helped curb the damage of the Mage-Templar war. She was a leader and advisor and wise beyond her years.

Yet, right now, watching her run at full speed toward a herd of halla, she looked like just a child. She was right in her element.

"Larana!"

" _Da'mi_! What are you doing here?!"

Fay gripped the elf excitedly, "Everyone, this my very best friend in all of the world - Larana. Larana, this is Cole, Rhys, and Evangeline."

Her glowing skin was a deep shade, like the color of caramel candies. She had long, white hair, like a blank canvas, all of it was styled small box braids decorated with colorful beads. Her large, almond eyes were a dark, deep shade of brown. On her face was a grey tattoo that began between her eyes and reached over each eyebrow. It almost looked like the shape of an animal, as if her brows had horns. She was a very lovely woman, and her unique beauty stood out amongst the clan.

Larana took one look at Cole and let out a laugh. "Creators, kid. You are as white as a ghost! You're gonna scare the halla!"

Cole looked alarmed. "Oh! Should I tell them I'm sorry? I don't want to scare them! They are so nice."

Fay almost growled. "Larana! _Please_.”

Larana shook her head and patted Cole gently on the arm. "I'm just kidding - Cole, was it? You aren’t scaring them. It's nice to meet you all. We don’t get too many shems around here."

Fay gave her another look.

“Please don’t use _that_ word, Larana. I don’t like it.”

“Alright, alright. Geez. What crawled up your bum?”

The girls hugged tightly and laughed. It was heartwarming to see the Inquisitor so genuinely happy.

There was a _ding-ding-ding_ that interrupted the reunion. Someone was ringing a bell from the fire pit.

“Guys! It’s time for dinner and stories. Let’s go! We will catch up more afterward.”

Shihon, the teacher, was sitting in front of the fire on a bench. The children gathered around him, as did many adults. They sat quietly, intent on listening and eating their simple dinner of cooked rabbit and various boiled herbs. Fay whispered from her right.

“Fresh meat. Yes! They must have been hunting today.”

Cole was on Fay’s other side. He kept passing the pots of food to the next person, until Fay stopped him and whispered in his hear. He nodded and she took two slivers of flesh from the pot to put on his plate. He grimaced. Evangeline thought he looked a little green.

"Since our _Da'mi_ has returned for a visit, we think it would be most appropriate to recite her favorite tale – The Canticle of Shartan."

_Canticle of Shartan? As in Shartan, the leader of the elf rebellion out of Tevinter?_

Fay and Larana squealed in delight. When it looked like everyone was distracted by Shihon, Evangeline noticed Fay stole a small piece of meat from Cole’s plate.

The _hahren’s_ voice was loud and clear above the talk of the circle. Everyone else around the fire quickly quieted. Once there was silence, the teacher began his tale.

"Shartan was a great warrior, a fine example of the People. But he began as no more than a slave in ancient Tevinter. He dreamed of a homeland for the People. So he led the elven slaves who rebelled, and they bravely fought alongside Andraste herself. Garron, do you remember the rest of the story?"

A small, elven boy rose to his feet.

"Yes, _hahren_. Andraste made Shartan her champion. She gave him her mother's blade. But he was killed trying to save her once she was betrayed."

"Do you remember the name of the blade?"

The child looked embarrassed then. "No, I'm sorry."

"Quite alright, Garron. You did well. The name of the blade was the 'Glandivalis'. _Da'mi_ , would you please tell everyone what the Chant of Light says Andraste told Shartan when she gave him the Glandivalis?"

Fay happily stood, puffing out her chest in a dramatic stance, and held up her hand as if holding a sword.

"Take this, my champion, and free our people forever!" Others around the circle clapped at her antics.

"Yes, exactly. Visitors, do humans have a similar tale of Shartan and Andraste?"

Evangeline looked uncomfortably at Rhys, who was gazing at the young faces around the fire. Many were looking at her with expectation.

“I'm sorry, we don't. That’s from the Dissonant Verses of the chant… We only know it as the Heresy of Shartan. He is not to be studied. I'm afraid I don't know much of him."

Shihon nodded, as if expecting her answer. “Yes. He was stricken from Chantry history after the Exalted March on the Dales.”

Evangeline only picked at the hair in front of her face and mumbled a quick ‘yes’.

“Are you uncomfortable, Templar? That is not my goal and I apologize." Shihon really did sound like he regretted upsetting her.

“No! No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful or interrupt the lesson. Please, continue.”

Deshanna, probably sensing Evangeline's discomfort, approached her and quietly spoke in her ear. "Would you mind walking with me for a moment?"

Evangeline nodded, grateful for the rescue but wary of what the Keeper would need from her.

As they walked away, Evangeline heard Shihon, “That is why it is so important to get our history from many sources. We get a more complete picture this way.”

The two women walked side by side.

“I’m afraid I have forgotten your name, friend.”

“It’s Evangeline.”

The older elf just smiled, leading Evangeline out of the crowded section of the camp.

 “Evangeline. Interesting thought about Shartan. There are rumors he and Andraste were lovers during the rebellion. Do you suspect there is any truth in that?"

Evangeline was surprised by the keeper’s remark. She always heard those rumors were just political jabs at Empress Celene and her own alleged relationship with her elven ambassador.

_Just where is Deshanna going with this?_

“I suppose it's possible. It isn’t unheard of for an elf and a human to…come together in such a manner.”

"Yes, yes. It is actually more common than most think. You see, if an elf and a human have a child, the child will always appear human. They can easily blend in with other humans without suspicion. It is one reason that sort of coupling is discouraged. Many elves believe bonding with humans will lead to our own extinction.”

Evangeline only swallowed and nodded slowly. She was beginning to feel nervous. Deshanna stopped abruptly and faced her.

“Let me be frank - would you know anything regarding the nature of the relationship between my daughter and the young Cole?"

Evangeline coughed and turned red.

"I...I don't know for certain. It really isn't any of my business."

Deshanna gently touched her shoulder in comfort.

"I'm sorry, dear. No need to be nervous. I did not mean to offend you. You are a woman, and oftentimes women are more in tune with the emotions of others."

Evangeline let out a calming breath. "I'm...also sorry. I am not certain where they stand, but I do know they care very much for one another."

“Yes. Their attraction isn't obvious, but a mother knows these things."

They turned to keep walking the opposite direction of the camp.

“I also know of his…condition.”

Evangeline choked. “What?”

“ _Da’mi_ mentioned this man in a letter once. Said he is unique – corporeal spirit, with real flesh and blood."

_Oh, no. Was Cole in danger here?_

“Yes, but he is quite harmless. He isn't a demon.”

“We Dalish do not differentiate between spirits and demons. They are merely different ends of the same spectrum - both pose an equal danger. These creatures are much like people this way; there isn’t a black or white, but there is much grey.”

Her pulse increased then. She placed her hand over the handle of the blade at her side. Thankfully, she brought it with her.

“But I agree with you. I don’t think he poses a threat.”

_Another deep exhale._

"If it helps - I don't think either of them know what they are doing either."

Deshanna smiled.

“Well, dear, you were once a templar. You would have such experience dealing in matters of a demonic nature, correct? I only want to ask you for one thing - please watch out for my daughter. I am wary she will be a fool in love, much like her mother.”

Evangeline removed her hand from her sword.

"Of course."

Deshanna stopped her again and looked her in the eye very seriously.

“Please, Evangeline. Do not discuss this matter within earshot of the rest of my clan. I raised my daughter…differently than most Dalish. I also lead this clan in a unique way. There are those here who greatly disagree with my methods. I would fear for young Cole’s safety should the truth of his nature be made known here.”

_Maybe Cole was in danger here, after all._

 

* * *

 

Evangeline and the keeper returned to the pit after a few moments and sat near Cole and the others. They missed the rest of the story.

During that time, Cole had a couple things to think about. First, he and Fay actually had sex. And it was _amazing_. No wonder people think about it all the time. Frankly, Cole could hardly think of anything else since that night.

He wanted to do it again.

She was so happy here, with her family and friends. Cole was really worried that he could never make her this happy and he would eventually lose her.

He never wanted to lose her. Cole couldn’t live without her song.

Fay reached over to grab another piece of the meat on his plate. He was glad she was eating it for him. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, but he could hardly stomach looking at it or smelling it, much less actually eating it.

The teacher finished his story a while ago. Now everyone was just sitting around talking. Most already left to go to bed. Their own group spoke amongst themselves and Rhys decided to ask Fay more questions.

“So, Fay, you know a lot about Andrastians and the Chantry. You keep yourself pretty educated on this stuff, yeah?”

Fay blushed, but her mother spoke for her.

“She is very much like her father.” The keeper smiled fondly then. “He was a circle mage - a good man, a researcher and a teacher. He taught me how to read and write. That is why our clan is literate.”

Cole could feel her hurt then - abandonment, betrayal, an open wound that never healed.

"You are hurt...did he hurt you?"

Fay turned to him, “Cole, I don’t think – “ her mother placed her hand on Fay’s lap to stop her.

“No, dear. It’s ok. Cole is only concerned and that kind of behavior should be encouraged. But, yes, Cole. He...I was never certain, but he stopped meeting me in the city....We had…an affair of sorts. I hadn’t known I was pregnant then. I heard later he was made Tranquil. I suspect it is because they found out about us…” Her eyes shined with tears, but they didn’t fall, “Our kind of mingling was discouraged. But I never knew for sure.” Fay reached out for her mother’s hand as she tried to console her. “Thankfully he left me a wonderful gift.”

_He didn’t even know of Faerydae._

_But Faerydae was his gift to her. A gift from the faeries._

_From the…_

Something tickled the back of Cole’s mind. This all sounded familiar. It was strange, like he was trying to connect pieces of a puzzle together that didn’t quite fit.

Cole looked to Rhys and Evangeline, who were also looking at each other. Perhaps they all shared the same feeling.

Were they forgetting something?

 

* * *

 

**_There’s still a lot more that is gonna happen with the clan. I just really needed to cut off this chapter. It was getting a bit dense, information wise._ **

**_I’m sure some of you already guessed who her father is. He is a canon character and not an OC._ **

**Translations:**

_Mamae –_ Formal way of saying “mother”, as opposed to “mama”

_Ma enansal_ – My sweet/my gift

_Da'mi_ – Little blade (Fay’s Dalish nickname)

_Ma vhenan_ – My heart

_Aneth’ara –_ Friendly, informal greeting. Used when someone is familiar or is considered a friend.

_Garas quenathra shem_? – Why are humans here?

_MANA! BANAL!_ – Common interjection. Very loosely translated as “Stop! No!”


	19. Chapter 19

**_Trigger warning: Allude to non-con at the end of this chapter. It isn’t graphic and nothing happens from it, but the reference is there._ **

**_Have I told you guys how much I love you? I really do. Even those silent lurkers – I don’t know ya, but I love ya all the same. You are the best! This is dedicated to you. <3_ **

* * *

 

_The satisfaction of sinking the dagger into his father’s heart imprinted on his soul. His mother’s dagger. The only piece of the wilder folk she kept, and when his father tried to sell it she’d buried it in the field. Cole had watched, and he now remembered digging the dagger up, clawing at the earth with bare fingers as tears stung his eyes._

\- Asunder, Chapter 13, page 254

 

**NINETEEN**

 “See? And this word says ‘halla.’” Short, dirtied fingers brushed across the worn pages of the much loved book, _Wild Beasts of Thedas_. “And this one is ‘nug’. N-U-G. See?” The small elf turned to let out a smile, beaming with pride.

“Yes, yes. I do see. Thank you.”

Another piped up from his other side, “Do you like nugs?”

“Yes. I really like nugs. They make great friends.”

“You are a good friend.” The small elf wrapped her arms around Cole’s neck and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. He instantly felt like a fish out of water, the awkwardness written heavily in his voice. He patted her on the back. Even with this gentle touch, she felt so delicate, so vulnerable. The other children gathered around them giggled with delight. No one seemed to notice his ineptitude with social interactions.

“We’ll talk to you later, Cole! We gotta go do chores now! Thanks for reading with us!”

“Yeah! Come sit with us during lessons. It will be fun!”

The group of children ran off in the direction of a stern looking adult surrounded by baskets. They would be busy for some time.

Fay, having witnessed the interaction, smiled with a crooked, knowing grin and sat in the emptied seat beside him.

“Hmm. Do I have a rival for your affections?” she teased.

Cole blushed hotly from her gaze. “…What? N-No.”

Fay raised an eyebrow.

“Little Anissa seems to be rather fond of you.”

Cole hid his face beneath his hat, “They wanted to help me learn to read. And they said they liked my hat.”

Fay sniggered, running her fingers across the edges of his hat. “Yes. I can definitely see the appeal it would have to small children.” She bumped his side with her shoulder to get him to look at her.

When he did, she leaned in and breathed close to his ear, “I missed you last night.” Cole gulped. She grabbed his shaking hand to still it. She hid their clasped fingers in the space between their bodies.

“No reason to be shy, Cole,” she whispered, low and dark and thick like sugared syrup that sat out in the snow too long. She ran her thumb gently and slowly over his.

Cole considered how one, seemly innocent touch could cause such electricity to course through him. Especially after all the things they have done with each other. He longed to kiss her.

_Hot breaths, hot mouths press together, sighs burning and breaking apart in agony. Her thighs pressed against my waist, I’m losing myself…falling._

“I…missed you…too.” He bit his lip and reached his other hand around and stroked her cheek affectionately. She was warm, just like he expected.

Someone cleared their throat behind them. It was Fay’s mother. They jumped apart. Cole began to closely resemble a tomato.

“Perhaps…you should hold off on such displays while in camp? I would rather not cross this bridge prematurely.” Her tone was flat, but her face betrayed her amusement.

Cole really like Keeper Deshanna. She was kind and she loved Fay. She wanted to protect her more than anything.

He began to toy with the dagger on his lap out of nervousness. Deshanna noticed the blade and gazed at it with curiosity.

“That wasn’t the blade you had strapped to your back yesterday.”

Cole looked up at her. “No. I don’t use it. I just like to keep it with me. It was my mother’s.”

She reached an open palm out toward him, “May I?” Cole knew he could trust her, so he handed the dagger over. She held gently between her fingers and moved it close to her face to inspect it. Recognition flashed through her eyes.

"This dagger is of Chasind origin. The Chasind like to carve their weapons into the shapes of animals. They say it confuses the gods so they are not blamed for the bloodshed caused by the weapon.” She ran her fingers along the sharp points of the blade. “You see – other than the obvious hilt carved into a dragon’s head, this blade was made into the shape of a dragon's tooth. Fascinating. Is your mother Chasind?” She gave the blade back to him.

"...I don't know. She said this was all she had left from the wilders."

Deshanna nodded. "Chasind Wilder, yes."

His lip trembled and he hid his face away again. "I don't remember...I don't remember her." Fay let out her own painful sound and stroked his arm.

“ _Mamae_ …please.”

"My child, I am so very sorry. Please forgive me. I didn’t know." Deshanna sat on her knees in front of him to look at his face. “Everyone deserves to know their mother…” Fay gave her a warning look, but Deshanna pressed on.

“And she deserved to know you. You are a hero. You helped save the world. Any mother would be very proud to call you her son.” He looked at her face, floored by her sincerity, and nodded. He was touched somewhere deep in his soul then. No one, _no one_ , had ever told him they were proud of him. Not in this life nor the last. If anything, they were ashamed. He certainly never thought his mother would be glad he was her son. He was the reason she was dead. He was the reason he _himself_ was dead. But the Keeper’s pain entered his mind, so loudly it overshadowed his own.

_Beautiful blue eyes blinked back at her. ‘I love you, Deshanna. My love will outlast this damned Chantry. I will get out of here and we will be together.’_

Sadness. What might have been?

_Poor child. Forced into a world he doesn’t quite understand. He needs help and guidance…if only he were here to help…He would help Cole…He would want me to help him…_

Cole’s eyes widened. “You…know about me. What I am. How I came here.”

Deshanna nodded “ _Da’mi_ wrote to me a long time ago about you. I know you came through the Veil, that you were drawn to the pain of a boy named Cole who was dying, and you became him after he died.”

Fay took a deep breath and looked around to see if anyone was listening in. Cole lowered his voice.

“I get confused sometimes. There are two parts of me in this one body. When I became more human…I became more _me_. But his nightmares still haunt me.”

Deshanna looked at him like he was a riddle that needed solved. She spoke really softly to him. “There are times when a person will hurt so much they separate parts of themselves to bury away the pain – almost like forgetting. Perhaps… you need to accept him as a true part of who you are now.”

The guilt was overwhelming. It felt like the darkness creeping in again. “But I’m not really him. I am what I am because of him, but I came from the Fade. He is dead, gone forever.” _Because I couldn’t save him._

“Where do any of us come from? Where do any of us go?”

“I…don’t know.”

Deshanna’s eyes were sympathetic. “No one really knows where a soul comes from or how it manifests itself. No one truly knows why they are here or their purpose in this life. But you know this – you are this boy. You became him, correct?”

“Yes. A him that didn’t hurt.”

“Then he is you and you can’t ignore him. Let that child heal, son.”

Cole lowered his eyes to his lap. “That is what my friend Varric said. ‘ _You can’t make it all just go away, Cole_.’” Cole choked his words out.

“It sounds like this Varric is a good friend.”

“He is….Am…I…should I miss his mother…should I remember her?”

“Yes. Certainly. She was _your_ mother.”

Maybe she was. He let a tear fall from his eye and stared down at the Chasind dagger – his mother’s Chasind dagger. He _missed_ her. He missed knowing her. It still hurt terribly to think about her, to think about Emeline…He felt so guilty sometimes for missing them because he stole them from someone else. He stole their memory from the Cole he couldn’t save…but… _he wanted to remember_.

“ _Da’mi_ , I would like to talk to you privately, if possible.” Deshanna moved to her feet, gave Cole one last sad smile, and walked away from the couple. Fay grabbed his hand again immediately.

“Cole, are you alright?” Fay was so concerned. She was always concerned.

“Yes. I am fine. I really am.”

She turned her head to see if the coast was clear and quickly left a peck on his lips. Just a ghost of a kiss, but it meant more than anything.

“I’m going to go talk to Mama before she hunts me down. You come get me if you need me, ok?” She squeezed his hand one last time before letting go.

“Yes.”

* * *

 

Fay walked quickly across the camp toward her mother’s tent. She knew what they were going to talk about, and she absolutely dreaded the discussion. She felt like she walked to her own execution. She could also admit when she was being dramatic.

“Mama?”

The Keeper was standing by the fence that currently housed all the mounts, including Jack and Julie. Larana was not with her. Deshanna beckoned Fay with her hands.

“Come, dear. Let’s get out of camp for our talk. I don’t want to chance a listening ear.”

Deshanna waited until their camp was out of sight before sitting gracefully on a log. Only her mother could manage to look classy while sitting on a dead tree in the middle of the woods. Fay carefully lowered herself to the ground in front of Deshanna. She looked to her daughter meaningfully.

“How do you feel about this boy?”

“I…” She should have an answer prepared, she knew the question was coming, but she was at a loss for words. The squirming in her belly managed to distract her from rational thought.

“You obviously care about him.”

“Yes.”

“You are protective of him.”

“Yes.”

“You are attracted to him.”

She gulped, but nodded.

“And you feel these things despite how…unique he is.”

“Of course.”

Deshanna sighed and they both sat quietly for a moment, letting the soft sounds of the insects and the wind quiet Fay’s quacking heart.

“He is very damaged, Faerydae.”

“I know.”

“You can support him, but you can’t fix him. Only he can. It…won’t be easy. For either of you.”

“I know, Mama.”

“He’s a good man.”

“He is a very good man. I trust him with my life.” Fay said.

“His condition is complex. I may have an idea, but I don’t want to count my chickens yet.  If there is anything your father taught me, it is that spirits didn’t need to be feared, but they needed to be understood and respected. On the other hand he was a spirit mage, so perhaps he was a bit biased in his reasoning.” Deshanna let out a humorless laugh.

“Rhys is a spirit mage and he always liked Cole…Not everything, including spirits, can be placed in simple categories…” Fay began, her voice brittle.

Her mother interrupted. “…But, Cole is very special and I think would make a good bond mate, given he has time to come to terms with who he is.”

_Bond mate?_

Fay squeaked a little too loudly, “What?! But…”

“You love him, dear. Bonding is the next logical step a mother’s mind goes to. I’ll admit, I am still concerned, but I am willing to get to know him, for you.”

“But I – he – we…but he is human. Wait, _love him_?”

Her mother held up her hand, “But nothing, dear. His race matters not in affairs of the heart. You know I don’t - how did you used to put it?” She thought seriously for a moment, tapping a nimble finger against her boney chin, “Oh yes, I never ‘ _bought into that Dalish supremacy bullshit_.’”

Fay chuckled at her mother’s curse, and Deshanna continued. “We don’t have to discuss it further right now. I just wanted to point out the obvious so you may open your eyes to it.” The Keeper stood to walk away, leaving Fay looking gobsmacked in the dirt. “I need to go attend to something dear. Thank you for talking with me.” As the sound of her footsteps faded, Fay just continued to stare at the ground.

_Love him?_

* * *

 

Cole joined the children for their daily lesson that evening. Shihon had another book to share with them. This one was rather large but contained a lot of detailed pictures of plants and flowers. There was a field not too far from camp where different plants grew. The children were to go out and find plants to identify from the book. Cole went with them at their insistence.

They all scattered about the field, searching high and low for florae that may grow there. The little elf, the one who read to him that morning, was stuck to his side like sap to a tree.

“You should pick her a flower,” she said suddenly. Anissa didn’t identify who _she_ was supposed to be, but Cole knew who she meant.

“Why?”

“Girls like flowers. It is like saying you think they’re pretty. You do think she is pretty, right?”

This child was very good at making him blush. “Yes.”

“Then get her a flower! She can put it in her hair! It will be so nice!” The child squealed with delight at the prospect. She pointed to a particularly bright purple flower. “Pick this one, Cole!” He did.

They returned to the camp. The sun was starting to set. Everyone gathered around the fire pit to discuss what they found, but Cole sat off to the side by himself. He was nervously rocking back and forth on the bench. He felt someone sit beside him.

“That flower for our lovely Inquisitor?” Rhys asked.

“Yes. Anissa said girls like flowers.”

“Well, you might just show me up, then. Getting your lady flowers. Making me look bad in front of Evangeline.” Rhys shook his head but smiled at him. He let out a breath and relaxed against the bench.

“What do you think of all this? This clan? This camp? It isn’t really what I was expecting,” Rhys said.

“Most of the people are really nice and have generous hearts. Some are more fearful and suspicious than others. But I like it here.”

“It is rather calm, isn’t it? Like traveling to a different time. You could almost forget about the awful monsters still out there.”

“I could never forget the monsters, Rhys.”

Rhys shook his head sadly. “I know, Cole. I’m sorry.” He laid a hand on his shoulder and rose to his feet. Cole followed his example, intending on look for Fay.

Someone started drumming and children stood to their feet. Another person was playing a wooden flute. The harmonic sound was upbeat and energetic. Music and laughter surrounded Cole and warmed him as much as the fire. It almost swept him away. Then he felt her small hand on his shoulder and smiled. He turned to face her, holding the pathetic, wilting flower.

“This…is for you.” He moved her hair behind one ear and placed the flower there. “Anissa was right. It matches your eyes.”

Fay smiled brightly at him. “Do I look pretty?”

What could he say?

_You are more radiant than the sun. You shine brighter than the stars. You hold more beauty in a single hair on your head than anything else does in all the world. Nothing compares to you, not even in the Fade._

“You look very pretty.” Cole whispered.

Her flushed face fell from nerves and she held out her hand, “Dance with me?”

Cole looked at the hand held out in front of him like he never saw one before, but then he swallowed and nodded. He took her hand and she pulled him back toward the center of the circle, closer to the fire. Children were twirling all around them, some singing, all different words but blended together to make the same song. Rhys and Evangeline were also dancing, holding each other close. They were somewhere else far away from here, far away from monsters and demons and danger and evil.

He twirled Fay around in his arms and she let out a laugh. It was so beautiful. Her face, completely at ease, covered with joy, colored pink with happiness. She was so carefree then and she was happy…to be with him. To be held by him and to be dancing with him and to be looking at him. She held adoration in her eyes.

Cole lost track of time. At some point she slowed down, pulling herself closer to his body and resting her head on his shoulder, but never let go of his hand. It was seared from her touch. He breathed in her soft, floral scent; the smell that always captivated him.

_I love you, Fay._

And the thought was in his head before he noticed. One moment, it wasn’t there and the next it was. But really, maybe it was there all along.

Someone approached them from the side, breaking the spell they were under. It was the First, Yewen, and he appeared displeased with the sight in front of him.

“Faerydae, may I please speak to you for a moment?” he asked curtly and didn’t wait for her answer before turning his back on them and walking away. Fay rolled her eyes.

“I’ll be right back.” And she was off again.

* * *

 

She was so stubborn. It was as if she completely forgot their plans, their families’ hopes, the entire reason he was there. He was there to train, to bond with Faerydae and to be Keeper of this clan – but this _boy_ wasn’t part of the plan.

She followed him into his private tent. The darkness concealed their faces when they were inside but he could still tell she was heated. Whether it was from embarrassment or anger, he wasn’t sure.

“Can you tell me what is going on out there?” His voice was strained.

“What do you mean? I was dancing!”

“Yes. I saw. Really enjoying yourself, weren’t you?”

“What is that supposed to mean, Yewen?”

Yewen sighed deeply with frustration. Why did she always insist on being so difficult? “You know since the day you were born our families intended on our bonding! I left my clan _to be with you_.”

She got closer to his face, perhaps so he could make out her features. “That isn’t true! You left your clan _because you had to_.”

“There were other clans who would take mages, but I chose this one! You were promised to me and yet here you are, traipsing all over the world with people who don’t understand us or our way of life!”

“I don’t get a say?! I am promised off to some stranger when I am just a baby and I can’t even object – all for some stupid _tradition_? I don’t even feel that way about you!”

They were getting too loud. Yewen didn’t want to draw attention to them or be interrupted, so he lowered his voice. “It’s not about love, Faerydae. It’s about duty. Love comes later, with time.”

“Well, maybe I want it to be about fucking love!”

“Do. _Not._ Use that dirty shem language with me.”

“Fuck you! I will use whatever the hell I want to! Despite what you think, Yewen, you don’t control me!”

Yewen took a deep breath, keeping his frustration under control. “Faerydae, listen. You are young. You don’t understand what any of this means…”

“I don’t understand?! You know the things I have seen? We saved yours and everyone else’s asses and you could give less than a shit! And I understand I don’t want to be Dalish! I am tired of living in the past! We don’t even know what is real and what isn’t! I can’t do it anymore! I won’t!”

Yewen shook his head at her. She was being unreasonable. “Is it because of that shem boy? Do you have feelings for him? Do you know how _preposterous_ you sound right now?! Do you truly think anyone is going to accept that match – a creepy little human and a loud mouth, half breed knife-ear?!”

“ _That_ is none of your business! And this isn’t about Cole. This is about YOU and ME! And I want YOU to leave ME the fuck alone!”

Faerydae stormed out of the tent and Yewen attempted to follow her… She was furious. Her hair even moved against the wind as if set aflame from her fury. She was gorgeous, a fiery beauty that couldn’t be quite captured or held down, but she was naive. She didn’t understand what needed to be done to preserve their legacy, the history of the People. He would have to show her, he would have to make her understand…

He wasn’t a sick man. He would much prefer she be willing rather than force it upon her. But he had a sworn duty – to preserve and protect the clan and their way of life. Faerydae had the same duty. He couldn’t let her run off and muddy their heritage with shem blood.

Before he could take a step, Yewen was pulled from the entryway and back into the tent by a strong arm. A sharp blade was against his throat and his staff thrown to the floor before he could even draw up enough mana to defend himself. Hot breath blew against his ear. Yewen didn’t recognize anything about the intruder. He only registered the strong smell of leather.

“If you even try it, I will _gladly_ kill you.” the strange voice was menacing and deadly.

“How did you get in here?” The intruder didn’t answer Yewen, but merely dug his blade deeper against his jugular.

“You touch her and I will _destroy_ you. I will make you _suffer_. You will _bleed_ for me. Give me a reason.”

Yewen just closed his eyes and shook his head. He could see it clearly through his mind’s eye. All the man would have to do was twitch his hand and Yewen would be dead. He wasn’t stupid. He would listen.

“Good.” the voice whispered before it was quiet in the tent again.

When he opened his eyes, he was alone.

* * *

 

**_Cole’s mother is actually Chasind in canon. While it isn’t said explicitly in the novel or the game, his dagger is described as “an ornate blade with an elaborate brass hilt carved in the shape of a dragon's head” (pg. 18). The Chasind people do make their weapons into the shape of animals AND are referred to as “the wilders” as his mother had addressed her family._ **

**_I am a total and complete nerd but I came up with Cole’s entire family history (on his mother’s side, because fuck his father) and it is mapped out and written. Don’t know if I will ever use it but I got it! Ha_ **

**_Almost time to move on from Clan Lavellan. Still got a world to save…_ **

**_Feedback is super appreciated!_ **

****


	20. Chapter 20

**_I am SO SORRY this took so long. Ugh. I doubt future chapters will take this long to post, at least for the duration of the summer. This one just gave me hell._**

**_Big friggin thanks to my lovely friend Hypermuffins for all the loves and encouragements and mini beta-ing. :) I swear there wouldn’t still be a story without her. <3_** ****

**_& & Of course, all you wonderful readers, lurkers and commenters alike! You should talk to me. We should be friends! :D I have a blog so you can talk to me there too! -> [Here](itshannahbeaniesblog.tumblr.com) (you don’t have to follow me or anything. I just like hearing from you)_** ****

**_Feedback is super appreciated!_ **

* * *

 

**TWENTY**

_21 days since leaving Skyhold_

The dawn breaking across the horizon was peeking through the open curtain of the Aravel, illuminating the inside with the soft glow of the sunrise. Larana had already gone to care for the halla, leaving Fay alone to stew about in her misery. She sat on the carpeted floor at the end of the wagon, twisting her hair into a tight braid, pulling on her scalp a little rougher than was necessary. The vein in her face was still pulsing and her muscles quivering from the leftover anger. She could not help it – she was right fucking pissed. She had not slept at all, irate thoughts swirling through her head like a tornado. It was impossible to rest.

_How dare that shithead think he has some claim to me like a fucking druffalo._

This kind of bullshit was the exact reason she was leaving the Dalish. You were not allowed to live your life; you live only to reproduce and benefit the People. You were treated like an animal instead of a living, breathing individual. You were expected to sacrifice everything about yourself for the clan. What was the point in maintaining the old ways if you have to live like this to do so?

The loose curtain drew back as Cole entered. He looked just as livid as she did. The night did not bring either of them any peace.

“Good morning, Cole."

He dropped to the floor beside her. His skin was flushed in the morning sun, nostrils flaring.

“You have been pulling lots of hairs from your head. You are very angry and hurt. It is very loud.”

Fay felt guilty and shifted away from him. He was leaning back against the wall of the Aravel, interlaced fingers resting on his crossed legs. Bitter beads of sweat gathered at his curved brow. He had his eyes closed.

“I’m sorry, Cole. I didn’t mean to bother you or upset you.”

“You haven’t. He is _not_ a good person.” Fay jerked her head in his direction, and for some reason she couldn't explain, reached out to touch his throat. Cole must be very upset to feeling this way over Yewen. She hoped it wasn't from jealousy...he had nothing to worry about.

She sighed and lowered her arm, “He…wasn’t…isn’t always like that. I think he means well for us, but he is extremely misguided.” 

Cole lifted his head to look at her with a narrowed gaze and then squeezed his eyes shut once more, dropping his head back.

“I won’t ever let him hurt you.”

She shook her head. “He is a dick. But he wouldn’t hurt me.” 

“You are kind, Fay. Overlooking and looking through outer covers – but you are _too_ kind with him. I see him. I hear him.”

Her lips parted and her postured relaxed. A small smile slowly creeped across her mouth. “I’ll…take your word for it.” She removed his hat, and leaned in to kiss him softly on the temple and on his cheeks. This man cared for her in a way no one ever has. Right then, she wanted nothing more than the world to disappear, leaving just the two of them in this empty Aravel. 

Fay pulled away and he looked at her, a question written in his pale blue eyes. She wanted to stay here with him more than anything, but she really needed to pack their belongings up. As she stood to leave, he grabbed her hand and brought her down to face him. He lifted her chin and leaned in, kissing her fully on the mouth. No matter how many times their lips met before, each new kiss made her heart soar and her knees weak. He pulled away, and left without saying another word to her.

She already knew she was lost. 

When she tried to follow him out, her mother was coming in, looking for her.

“Oh, dear. I just…I want to say goodbye before you leave again.” Deshanna grabbed her hands tightly, but Fay pulled away. She grinded her teeth against the rage that threatened to flow through, but she needed to know.

“Mama…why does Yewen think I was promised to him?”

Deshanna sighed, “Because you were, by Keeper Camlassan.”

“What?!” Fay asked more loudly than she intended.

“It doesn’t matter. I never consented, so it was never official. He wanted to be sure you would have a suitable match. That man stuck his nose in where it didn’t belong more times than not,” Deshanna replied softly.

While she was happy her mother didn’t marry her off as an infant, she was still distraught.

“It does matter! Yewen and I got into a huge fight about it last night. He acts like the thing with…Cole…is an act of betrayal.”

“I’ll talk to him, _Da’mi_. I am sorry he acted that way.”

Finding the forgiveness in her heart, Fay reached for her mother. The two women embraced and Fay let two frustrated tears fall down her face.

“If he hurts Cole…if he even _thinks_ of hurting him…I will kill him, Mama.”

“I don’t doubt that for one second, but I would like to keep my First alive and well, if at all possible. They are awfully hard to train and starting over just sounds like a lot of work.”

Fay let out a weak little laugh and buried her face into her mother’s shoulder.

* * *

 

Rhys, Evangeline, Fay, and Cole packed up their supplies and cleaned up the area of the camp where they stayed. No one wanted to feel the wrath of an angry hearthmistress. Evangeline was checking and packing spare blades, Rhys was on potion and food duty, and Cole was…talking to the animals. Each contributed in their own way. Standing as a group outside the halla fence, they were loading up Jack and Julie and preparing to leave for Wycome, when the flamboyant elf appeared at their side. The sound of feet stamping across the grass could be heard and the halla themselves looked alarmed.

"Don't you dare, _Da'mi_!" Larana announced with a set jaw and high chin. "I am coming."

Fay glanced around her uneasily and bit her lip. "What are you talking about, Larana? You have halla duty here. You can't come with us." She loaded another pack onto Julie.

Larana waved her arms excitedly through the air. "I’m going! I’ve been training someone and I think they could handle it. I really need to get out of here! I am a frigging mage. As much as I love the halla, there are times where I just want to go out and stretch my magical legs. _Please_. I will make myself useful. You know I can hold my own.”

Fay folded her arms across her chest and avoided looking her in the eye. It was always harder to say no when you had to look at their desperation, "It's going to be dangerous, Larana. More dangerous than you understand."

"So is being Dalish! I don't care."

_Well, you aren't wrong._

Julie made a noise, wanting someone’s attention, so Fay stroked her softly to calm her. That reminded her of another problem. "We don't have enough mounts. Where would you ride?"

"Pfft. Like that’s a big deal around here." Larana whistled and a beautiful white halla came up to her instantly. "On Nyx, of course."

Evangeline appeared relieved, "Oh, great Andraste! Can I ride with you? I don't think my bum can handle it all the way to Wycome on that Dracolisk. No offense, Jack." Jack only huffed.

Larana gave her an amused smirk. "I'll have to ask Nyx. He can be picky. He already seems to like ragamuffin, though."

Rhys glanced at them all, confused, "Ragamuffin? What kind of muffin?"

"She means that Cole looks like a beggar." Evangeline answered impatiently.

Cole spoke quietly, softly stroking the halla's face, "Nyx gets scared. He remembers when he was young, someone tried to catch him and they hurt his leg. It makes him weary of people."

"What is it, Blondie?"

"Never mind him, Larana..." Fay tried to draw attention away from Cole. As if that was possible…

"Wait. How did he know that story?"

_Fantastic. I can tell you no and risk word spreading that Cole is a demon…or I can appease her…_

"Please. I will tell you later, alright? Just get your shit together, will ya? We are leaving soon. And make sure you grab some Ironbark armor because you will need it." Larana nodded excitedly and almost skipped off in the opposite direction, Cole’s blunder forgotten. At least someone was excited about facing possible death.

“Wonderful! Another mage. I hope she can do healing magic.” Rhys said.

"Are you sure about this, Inquisitor?" Evangeline questioned, perhaps concerned about drawing yet more attention to the group.

"No.” She rubbed her temples, “I'm never sure about anything."

* * *

 

_Meanwhile, at an undisclosed location in the Vimmark Mountains_

Despite the amount of cleaning completed in preparation, the place stank of death from ages past. It was overrun by corpses for who knows how long. The stone tiled floors were caked in mud. The walls were covered in cracks from caving. It was so dark despite the red haze and the glowstones carved into the walls. But the place was well built, as most dwarven structures are. It made a great stronghold if you could get past the stench. 

The disgraced ex-templar sat his shabby desk deep within the thaig, wearing a blank expression, attempting to hide his frustration and shame from the officer giving his report. Using his desk as a shield, he pushed dirtied fingers into his armored thighs. How far the mighty have fallen. He had fallen especially far given that he was about as mighty as a sewer rat to begin with.

He failed his men. He was a broken man. A drug addict and a failure. And to top off his glorious act, he ran away. He fled Corypheus the night he decided to attack Haven instead of staying and facing the consequences. He was a coward. He abandoned his brothers and sisters. He had a chance to redeem the templars that were left deserted and broken by the Chantry, but he blew it.

He could not blame the elf woman – she was not the true reason he failed. She was only doing the sensible thing, saving her people and defending their honor. He could respect that. If he was completely honest, he was grateful that a great number of his brothers had escaped the grisly red fate and instead joined the Inquisition. They were better off that way. But now that Corypheus was defeated, the rest of the Templars would to return to the Chantry to serve the new Divine - an encore of the same dance.

All because he failed them.

He failed because he was meant to. He failed because he was blinded by some charismatic nutter that promised heaven but delivered hell. Corypheus was a madman. The magister did not care about the plight and suffering of his followers. He only cared about power and what it could bring him. The sewer rat of a man was a fool for listening to him and wished he had known that sooner. Then maybe Maddox would not be dead, not that being dead was much worse than being tranquil.

And now the new Divine Victoria has the gull to reinstate things. They were claiming that the circles were going to be different now. Everyone would be granted more freedom! Well, if you polish a piece of shit _, it is still a piece of shit_. It was a repeat of the same load he heard his whole adult life.

The Chantry needed to fall. There was no way to reform. There was no way to fix the corrupted system. Both mages and templars would be better off. The entirety of Thedas would be better off. All he wanted to do to cause enough chaos to make that happen, with as little death and destruction as possible. He had no interest in controlling the mages or reigning them in. That was a ploy.

After he ran, he wandered around, hiding in the shadows, surviving but only just. He knew that if Corypheus found him, he would be killed. He hated himself, but he was a coward and he did not want to die.

Until he ran into Weston Rocheteau, a fellow ex-templar from Orlais who was just as pissed off and just as jaded. Now he had someone to reinforce his anger. There was only one requirement – he was in charge. He was not going to play follow the leader with psychos anymore. He was going to change things, but he was going to do it his way.

There was only one issue with the arrangement. Rocheteau was very unsympathetic to mages, but used this to his advantage. It was a great way to get support from nobles. There is not anything more predicable about those idiots than when something goes wrong, they almost always uses mages as a scapegoat.

But now Rocheteau, while standing in front of his broken down desk, was explaining the reason they lost at least twenty brothers and their most lucrative mine at Guthram.

Inquisition soldiers were on to them, infiltrated their mine. They closed up Guthram and were scouting the place, keeping an eye out for more of his men to come by. And not only were they sniffing around there, they were mad. Rocheteau had disposed of the children from Hady. In fact, he locked them up and then starved them to death.

He did not approve of this method - not even a little bit. It brought up too many dark memories of the Gallows…of magelings and mages being treated like less than humans, left to die in the loneliness of shame, guilt of being marked a cursed magic wielder. 

He rose to his feet.

“You killed them?” He didn't want to give his weakness away, so he tried to cover his quaking voice as much as he could. 

Rocheteau shook his head and scratched his brow, astonished and frustrated by his superior's reaction. “They died, Samson. What did you want me to do? Take care of them? I had a damn mine to run, men to direct, and slaves to control. I could not bother to be distracted by a couple of meaningless throwaways.”

Samson's eye twitched and his stance widened. “You could not have assigned someone to it?”

“No, damn it all, Samson! They were of no use to me. I wasn't going to waste resources."

It was true, and Samson knew that. The dwarven children were certainly no use to the Liberators. But, did that mean they needed to die? He supposed …sacrifices had to be made. But these deaths were not necessary.

“Next time, find a different way to dispose of them, alive. Our goal is not to terrorize innocent people. I don’t want that to be what this order is about, Rocheteau. Don’t let it happen again.”

Rocheteau eyed him with disgust and spit on the ground next to him. “You going bloody soft, General?”

Samson let out a growl under his breath and stepped closer to the man, really glaring at him with his bulging, red ignited eyes, “No, _Captain_. If it gets out that we murder children, we may lose the support of nobles. We need their support if we are going to succeed. And this order, _my order_ , will succeed." 

That was what Samson said. In reality, he just did not want to kill children. That was not what he was about. He was never about that. Some people call him cold and hardened and those people would be right. Thankfully, he was certainly not without his humanity, after so many years on lyrium, and now on the red. 

_“If you could tear this upstart Chantry out by the roots,” the stranger asked, “bring about a new Order, what price would you be willing to pay?”_

_"If it gave one templar a better end than mine,” Samson said, “I’d pour out my own blood for it." **_

He was still willing to spill his own blood, but not needlessly shed the blood of others. He would not become Corypheus.

Somehow, he was still a better man than that.

* * *

**_**My Samson is heavily based on the short story "Paper and Steel," by Joanna Berry, who is a Bioware writer and the creator of both Samson and Calpernia. You can read it[here](http://blog.bioware.com/2015/04/30/short-story-paper-steel/)_ **

**_Uhm. There will more smut soon...because...reasons. Heh heh heh. Also ~ more actual shit happens in the next chapter. Ugh. I hate muggy middles. x(_**


	21. Chapter 21

**_Sorry this one took so long – again. :/ Thanks for sticking with me through this awful block. I REALLY needed to edit the shit out of a couple chapters. Plus, life got crazy for a number of reasons. I also rewrote this chapter three times. No joke. But, holy crap fanart! You guys should go check it out. I will post them at the end of the chapter!_ **

**_Love you all. <3_ **

* * *

  **TWENTY ONE**

_22 days since leaving Skyhold_

_Location: Just north of Hercinia_

_~~~~~~~~_

_It was not a beautiful day._

There was not sunshine filtering through the trees. The grass was not particularly green. It did not smell like salty sea air, more like wet dirt and the rot of leaves. The sound of majestic songbirds was not surrounding them. The only sounds heard were the snapping of twigs under mount hooves. The world felt dead. It felt cold and dead and gray. Faerydae decided she was not the biggest fan of the Free Marches.

Larana and Evangeline were riding together on the halla. Cole and Fay were riding the nuggalope. Rhys was alone by himself on the dracolisk. It was not too bad of a journey but no one was speaking. It was too quiet. When it was too quiet, Fay had the chance to ponder. Her mind tended to go to darker place. Instead, she tried to think of her best friend, Larana, who now joined the party on their journey to Wycome. She gazed at her, seeing her sit straight up, proper posture upon the halla, careful to be gentle. It was striking how different Larana looked from the rest of clan Lavellan. For one, she was not fair toned. She had much darker complexion, free of freckles or other so called imperfections. Where Fay was slender, Larana was sculpted with power, well defined muscles covered the mage's body. The striking difference between the two women was surprising. Fay was a warrior - she had a warrior's body, but she was also small, like an elf. Larana was clearly an elf, but possessed a different set of genes from Fay.  She looked more like Evangeline. While the rest of the clan had light and bright eyes, Larana's were as dark and cold as the twilight in winter. Fay thought she was one of the most beautiful women she ever seen.Of course, she was biased.

They had been making great progress and had gone further in one day than they had most the time they were traveling. But it was getting later into the evening and everyone was looking tired. Fay, being the so-called leader, made the suggestion that they all made camp for the night. Even Cole looked like he was wanting to eat, which was just short of a miracle in itself.

They stopped to set up camp at the next clearing they came across. Larana and Fay ventured out into the neighboring woods to gather firewood while the others set up the tents. That’s when Larana brought up the big question.“Alright. You need to tell me what is going on with ghost boy. Right now.”

“Oh man. I knew I wasn’t going to get away with it. Fine. But please don’t call him ghost boy. What do you want to know about him?”

“He’s different. He can sense things. Don’t think I haven’t noticed, _Da’mi._ He is terrible at hiding it. You are pretty bad at hiding your discomfort from me.”

Fay sighed, “Yes. I know.”Larana looked at her expectantly and tapped her foot on the damp grass.“He’s… unique. He used to be a spirit of compassion, but now he is mostly human.” Fay muttered.

Larana raised a perfect, white, skeptical eyebrow. “How does one become more human if they aren’t one already?”

“Sheer force of will, I guess.”

Larana crossed her arm, narrowed her eyes, and thinned her lips. “That makes no sense. At all. I can’t just force myself to become human. And, believe me, I really tried.”

Fay shrugged, “I  don't know. Like I said, he is special.”But her dear friend kept pressing her.

“What _kind_ of special, Faerydae?”

Fay looked at Larana sheepishly, “Uhm…the _good kind_ of special.”

Larana’s eyes widened in understanding. Her posture became ridged and defined. Her gentle, feminine hands balled into angry fists.“Are you guys…together?”

“You can say that.”

“Faerydae! What in Thedas are you thinking? By creators, I can’t believe this! You have got to be kidding.” Fay shook her head. “Ok…ok. Does he care about you?”

“Yes. He…really cares about me. I am pretty sure, anyway.”

“I can see that blush creeping on your face. Tell me what you two have done right now.”

Fay bit her lip, and her blush deepened. “We’ve…”

“Oh, Creators! You slept with him! Faerydae! Do you even know what you are doing! You hadn’t so much as kissed anyone last I talked to you.”

“I know, but…” Fay sighed, “He almost died at the mine. And I realized how much I…cared for him. I couldn’t lose him again. I just wanted to be with him.”

“You mean to tell me that this happened recently?”

“A couple days ago.”

“Crap. No wonder he looked so blitzed out of his mind.” Larana let out a little laugh under her breath.

“No. He always looks like that.”Both girls giggled and carried the dried branches, almost skipping back to camp.

All three tents were up and ready when they returned. This brought up another difficult subject – who would be sleeping in which tent. This whole _relationship_ thing was giving her headaches. They each brought the branches to the center of camp and threw them in the fire pit. Larana lit them up instantly.The clearing was covered by long branches reaching overhead, decorated by darkening leaves. Stars were visible through the blanket of leaves, and there was not a cloud in sight. It was a beautiful night, if not a little chilly due to wind breezing by. They all gathered in a circle around the pit, passing dried fruits and meats around. Meager, but a most welcome meal.

Rhys decided to fill the silence, between bites of jerky, “Tell me, Larana. I am not an expert on Dalish culture, but I am rather curious. What does the tattoo on your face mean?”

“It is for Ghilan'nain, the mother of the halla.”

He rose his chin to look at her. “Is it because you are the Halla Keeper?”

“That is one reason.”

“Do the Dalish get to choose their jobs, or does the clan’s keeper choose?”

“I choose mine.”

“Any particular reason, or…?”

Larana smiled, “You are very nosy,” she teased.  “I choose it because I like the halla…a lot more than I like most people.”

Rhys just nodded, likely guessing that he was becoming offensive.

“I was adopted. There is a lovely story to go with it, if you want to hear it.”

“If you are comfortable…if not, feel free to tell me to shut up.” Rhys looked at her with a hint of embarrassment.

“I was…just a girl. My clan didn’t appreciate me doing things that wouldn’t help the progress of our people. I couldn’t bond with some man, have his babies, just to please them.” Larana paused and took a deep breath, “I liked girls the way I was supposed to like boys, but they wouldn’t have it. ‘That don’t bring us babies’ they said. When I couldn’t change who I was, they left me in a forest to rot with the camp waste.” Larana looked pensive and stared down at the ground while Fay gripped her hand in a tight grip.

“It wasn’t long before a hunter and his young apprentice came across me while I was slumped over a tree stump, all crying and ready for death. Brought me back to clan Lavellan, ‘we won’t let you die in the woods,’ little hunter said. Took me in like I was family, they did. Fed me, clothed me, gave me a place to lay my head. Didn’t expect me to give them babies in return, just help out around camp and listen to your lessons, they said. That little hunter who saved my life became the sister I never had.”“As far as I am concerned, you are my sister, Larana.”

* * *

It was sometime in the middle of the night, when he was supposed to be keeping watch, that Cole spotted the strange mist at the other end of the camp. The mist twisted and turned and formed into a shape. It was a lioness, great, proud, regal. And it backpedaled into the darkness of the woods, almost as if beckoning him. Cole followed the apparition, even though alarms bells were going off somewhere in his head. He should be staying at camp, not running through the forest chasing ghosts. But he doubted that is what it was.

Another part, a bigger part, was telling him to keep going. Something needed him. Just when he was ready to turn back around to camp, he heard the footsteps - softly falling against the muddy ground, rusty and dried wheels turning, men laughing in triumph. But he also heard something else.

The pitiful cries of the lost. The scared pleas from captured souls in the night. Captured souls. Whoever they were, they were trapped. He leaned down in the brush, hiding his body from view, hoping to get a glimpse of the group.

He saw them. It was a pair of men. They were followed by a wagon being pulled by horse. There were goods stacked inside the wagon, expensive looking items. Books, trinkets, even food.  They wore armor with the sword on the chest plate. Templars? Possibly. But they did not feel like templars. Templars always had a unique feel to them. These men...felt off. But that was not what bothered Cole. What disturbed him was the cage that was being pulled behind it. It looked as if it were designed to carry animals. Inside were four women of varying ages from child to elder. They were crying, tears spilling over the cloth bands that held their mouths shut. They had stopped struggling against the restraints around their arms and legs. No. They were crying because they knew they were going to die.

Cole ran back to the camp, using his ability to silence his steps so not to cause alarm for the men in the woods. Everyone was still asleep in their tents. He first entered Fay's tent, she woke with a start.

"Cole...what..."

"There are templars in the woods...well...I don't think they are really templars...I think they are just posing as templars...but...”

Fay had barely opened her eyes, but she blinked the sleep back from her eyes and tried to focus on him. "Cole, please. What is it?"

"They captured some women. I think...I think they..."

She put her hand up to stop him and rose quickly, putting on her armor with ease. "Go wake the others. I will take care of the fire."

He opened each tent to wake them. After an embarrassing sight from Rhys and Evangeline, everyone was groggy, but ready.

Cole and the rest of group made their way through the maze and haze of the dark forest. They followed the firelight flashing off the trees from the templar's lanterns. Muffled cries of the captured were heard once they were close by. The rest of the party wasn't as silent in their steps as Cole, but the templars didn't seem to notice their approach.

"They seem oblivious to our approach," Evangeline whispered low to the rest of them.

They advanced on the group from behind. Fay let out a small gasp, as the women were now visible to the rest of them. Evangeline, still wearing templar armor, spoke up, sword drawn. She moved away from the rest of their party, partially concealing the fact that she was not alone.

"Halt. Identify yourselves, Templars,” she nearly shouted.

They stopped with boots and wagon wheels planted firmly in the soft sludge of mud. One turned completely around, holding the bright lantern up to Evangeline's face, illuminating her irritated expression. The angry red crystal glowed clearly from the chest plate. But this wasn't right. They weren't corrupted.

"Heeeeello, ser. How'd'ya doin'? We are jerst on our way back to da...uh...CircleinOst - Ostwick."

Evangeline edged her sword closer to the man’s throat. "Circle, you say? And just who are these women you have as your prisoners?"

"Why, day be apo-apa-apostatesss, ser."

Cole moved into the lighted path, shaking his head. "Something is wrong. They feel wrong. They are wearing red templar armor but..."

"Red templar? Where'ya git dat idea, boy?" The other, older man seemed horrified by the prospect.

The rest of the party came out into the light, Rhys's staff lit with blue flame and Larana had hers in front of her. Fay had her hand on the hilt of her axe. It was her turn to speak. "Don't move. Tell me right now where you got that armor."

The men were not trained for combat, but attempted to steady themselves despite being drunk.

"You tell us where you got these, we might let you live." She tried again.

The man let out a grunt and stumbled to Evangeline, but a shimmering, green wall of magic appeared, stopping him. Larana’s staff was glowing. "I wouldn't do that, friend. Drop your weapons."

"Armed mages? With a templar? Jerst what kind of templar are ya?"The man huffed.

Evangeline smirked. "The kind with a brain." Fay turned to Cole.

"Cole, you say these men aren't mad?”

"Not mad...but not…good."

"Inquisitor, what is your opinion? What should we do with them?" Rhys asked.

Fay came closer to the men and inhaled. "They stink of alcohol.” She lifted her axe in front the men. “We know you aren’t templars. Who are you? What were your intentions? Give me a good reason not to execute here and now.” But they stumbled back out of fear.

“No-no-no ser. We…not yer templars. But we didn’t kill them! We found them dead further back, on the main road.”

“The goods? And what about your captives?”

“We stole the wagon from the older woman. This is ‘er horse. The girls are ‘er daughters. We pillaged the other stuff sometime back.”

Fay, radiating with anger now, gave a harsh command in reply. “Disrobe. Now.”

The templars removed the armor, leaving in only in thin wrappings over their small clothes. They shivered from the cold air, and fear of the small elf woman.

“Now tell me, what were you planning on doing with these women?”

The older man blinked, his expression blank. “…I…I am not sure.”

Cole could feel the man was being honest. They would not kidnap or try to hurt innocent women on any other day. They were thieves, but they had limits.

“They are telling the truth. They don’t remember. The red lyrium was slowly driving them mad. They did something they normally wouldn’t do.” He spoke softly in their defense. Fay nodded.

"You may leave. We are taking your possessions, including the alcohol, and the women with us. Make sure we don't find you out here again." Evangeline threw them a stern look and they nodded before swiftly turning around and disappearing into the woods.

Cole saw that the women were no longer crying, but looking around with fear. He walked up to the cage, eyeing the women with sympathy. He hoped they understood they were not in danger. He didn’t wait to find the key to the lock, but instead picked it loose. Once the door was open, he first untied the wrists of the oldest woman. He knew she was the mother.“Oh, thank the Maker, boy. Please, help me untie my daughters. They are so desperately scared. My nerves make me tremble so it is hard to use my fingers most of time.”

Cole helped the woman out of the cage and then untied each girl one by one. While he was doing that, Fay was speaking with the older woman.

“What is your name?”

“My name is Annette. These are my daughters - the oldest is Ryn, the middle one is Stella, and the baby is Alice.”

“Where are you from? Can you tell me what happened to you?”

“Of course I can child. I am not mute. We are from a little village, Drumshire, just west of here, about one day’s journey. I had my stand out, I set up out of the wagon cause it is easier, you know. I was out like I do every morning with my girls. They came up to us looking like templars – we didn’t know they meant harm.”

Cole stroked the woman’s shoulder, “It is not your fault. You did what you could to protect them. They don’t blame you.”

“What? Well, thank you for trying to comfort an old woman, my dear, but I am afraid you do not know what they think.”

“But I-“

Fay interrupted him. “We can escort you back to your village, if you would prefer. This area is certainly no place for wandering, weaponless civilians.”

“Yes, yes. Thank you. We should be getting home. My husband, Thom, he is terribly sick, you see? Got the lung sickness. Can’t breathe enough to care for himself. I do hope Neddie saw to him. She has always been a dear, but sometimes she can be a bit of an airhead.”

* * *

After traveling overnight, the small village became visible in the distance. It appeared small, with a dirt road cutting through the middle. The road was lined with at least a dozen wooden shacks, each one could not contain more than two rooms. On their far left was a small chapel. On the far right appeared to be a small farm. That probably belonged to Annette’s family. There weren’t many people, there wasn’t even sign to show its existence. It was a little village that most likely never got visitors. No wonder they were so afraid of the men posing as templars.

The group walked along the path. To tell the truth, they appeared to be quite the spectacle. Including the women, they were now a group of nine riding a dracolisk, nuggalope, and halla. They were also with a wagon, a horse, and an animal cage attached.  Not to mention, they were all quite filthy.

Her daughters had been quiet most of the way back to the village. They were quite the opposite of their mother. The most she heard from any of them were quick thanks and introductions.

Annette lead them into a small cottage beside the farm. Inside, it was cold and dark. Annette immediately went into action ordering her daughters and designating tasks.

“Ryn, I need you to go check on the state of the garden. Stella, please start a fire. It is much too dark and cold in here. I swear I can see my breath! Alice, go with Ryn to tend to the vegetables. Make sure to gather enough for rabbit stew this evening. Now I must go check on your father!” The women dispersed with practiced ease.

Fay took a good look around the cottage. At one corner was an unlit fireplace constructed of stone. Small pots dangled on hooks above it. Beside it was a table, the surface of it bare except for a lone half melted candle. She watched as Annette scurried into a darkened hallway with another lit candle in her grasp. The air smelt stale, like it had been sitting and saturating the room for a long time.

Only Cole and Fay had chosen to enter the cottage with the family. Evangeline, Rhys, and Larana had stayed outside to tend to the mounts. After the fire was lit, Stella had hurried out a back door to assist her sisters. It was only Cole and Fay in the front room now. Cole leaned in and whispered. “There is a lot of pain here. The village air is heavy with it. But, there is something else here. Something happy as well.”

Fay had to agree with him. There was pain here but in some strange way, it was comfortable.

Annette returned from dark room, a pail of water on one arm and a towel over another. She was humming along to an unrecognizable tune.

“Wonderful news! Neddie did not forget. Thom said she had stopped by just yesterday, so he was tended to. Now, I must go to the Hager Hall and prepare supper. Everyone will certainly have questions! I insist you come and stay for a meal.”

Fay did not know what “Hager Hall” was, but they both followed the older woman out of the cottage and down the dirt road. Small, curious faces were peeking out of doors and windows. People who were outside paused to look at them. Annette nodded her head at each inquiring eye and said “Dinner will be served this evening.” She said it everyone.Was she cooking for the whole village?

When they got close, Fay saw that Hager Hall was actually the little chapel they passed on their way into the village. When they walked in, a fire was already going. Stella was preparing the wood stove, as if it was part of the normal routine. There were many more pots and pans in the chapel, along with bread and fresh vegetables and some fruits in baskets. It appeared that this kitchen was used often.

“Do you always cook dinner here?” Fay finally asked out of curiosity.

Annette did not turn away, but sat the large pot of water on the stove to boil. “Well, of course dear. A lot of folks in the village do not have enough to feed themselves and their families. My husband has been using his farmland to provide for our little town for years. It is usually myself and my daughters who try to share the food among everyone. We don’t have a lot, but we get by.”

Fay felt awful. Almost since she first Annette, she was annoyed by her. She talked too much, which was probably the reason her daughters rarely spoke. But she was kind enough to provide for her neighbors. That was definitely a redeeming quality.

On the menu for tonight was rabbit stew, much to Cole’s dismay. Being unable to conceal his visceral disgust, Cole had to finally step outside before the smell got to him. He would not come back in until the stew was finished. Ryn felt badly about his reaction. She fried him up some apples, hoping that would help his appetite return.

Apparently an appetite for food was not the only thing she was hoping he would develop. She was also openly flirting with him, stroking his arm, even asking to try on his hat. It was the most she had spoken since they even met the girl. After most of the villagers had been tended to, the, family as well as their guests, gathered around the large, elongated table that seemed to be reserved for them. Ryn insisted Cole sitting next to her since she had to cook him up  _something special_ for dinner.

And it really pissed Fay off.

She looked down at her clay bowl, mixing around her potatoes, onions, and carrots. Little chunks of meat floated to the top. She felt herself boil with rage on the inside. She was sure her face was as red as the tomatoes that damned woman had picked earlier. 

Suddenly Fay was not so hungry. She wanted to smack that pretty little _shem slut_ and that smirk right off her face.

She rose from her seat and walked over to Cole, who was on the other side of the table in front of her. She stood behind him and let out a huffed breath.  When he turned to face her, she dropped her head down quickly and planted her lips on his in a most awkward and hasty kiss. She could hear Larana and Rhys laughing in the background. It made her chest hurt. She knew she was making a fool of herself, especially since Cole stiffened in response. For a split second, she was scared he was going to reject her.

_I am so stupid. He doesn’t want this to be serious, not serious enough to claim me in front of a group of strangers._

But then he stood, grasping her face gently with his fingers, and melted into the kiss, the world itself melting away around them.

* * *

_**I am so sorry if this chapter is full of errors. I just REALLY needed to get it posted. I am tired of fussing over it. Please point anything out to me.** _

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	22. Chapter 22

**First of all – wow! I am so so so sorry this took forever to update. I have not, by any means, abandoned this story. It is just several things happened the past month that interfered with updates. For one thing, Trespasser (holy shit). I started my job again, classes started up full time again, and I am tutoring again. But I love every single frecking one of you for sticking with me and being patient!!! You are amazing and I love you!!!**

**TWENTY TWO**

_23 days since leaving Skyhold_

_Location: The Village of Drumshire, West of the Vimmark Mountains, approx. 3 days journey from Wycome_

The stew was terrible. The company was worse.  

Rhys was never a fan of rabbit or teenaged angst. He sipped the thick, murky broth, just waiting for the young elf two seats away from him to quite literally explode in her seat. It had been funny, watching her get bent out of shape over the farm girl’s attentions to Cole. Anyone with eyes could see he was crazy about only Fay, but you know, _women_. And young love and all that.

But it was just getting started. He heard the clank of her spoon hitting her bowl, and the scrapping of the chair across the dirtied stone floor. She practically marched around the table, even hitting Rhys’s chair with her hip swaying as she moved in for the kill. When she reached Cole, she quickly landed an awkward kiss on his lips. Poor kid was bewildered as if they had never kissed before. And Rhys knew _THAT_ wasn’t true.

But then it was as if it all clicked in his brain, and Cole returned her kiss, but he had to stand up to do it. You could taste the heartbreak in the air coming off that farm girl. Perhaps she thought a young strange boy from out of town like Cole would be her only chance at happiness. Poor dear. Rhys grinned behind his bowl.

The couple pulled away from each other. The Inquisitor was flushing, but Cole was grinning ear to ear and licking his lips. Fay turned quickly and rushed back to her seat, still red as a tomato. Cole sat carefully back in his and seemed oblivious to the farm girl’s broken heart.

The rest of dinner passed rather uneventfully, leaving only the lukewarm stew to occupy Rhys’s thoughts.

* * *

 

“Does this remind you of anything, Cole?” Rhys laughed, kicking a stone across the dried dirt, stirring up dust in its wake. Both men were walking their meager dinner off. They had stopped just past a barn.

Cole shifted beside Rhys, not looking up from his feet. “You mean when I followed you to Velun on the way to the Western Approach?”

Rhys gave him a crooked grin. “Yes. Great times. The good old days.”

“I can’t think of anything good from those days.” Cole sighed and leaned against the wooden wall of the barn.

“It was sarcasm, Cole.”

“Oh…I still have trouble with that sometimes.”

They sat in silence for long moments, the wind swirling dust around their still figures. Cole finally spoke after a moment. He must have sensed Rhys’s discomfort.

“You didn’t kill them, Rhys. I did.”

“What?”

“It hurts you to think about it. You feel…guilt. But that isn’t right. It isn’t for you to feel guilty about.” Cole looked him straight in the face and said matter-of-factly.

“I…don’t know that for sure.”

“I do. I know that. The blood was – _is_ on my hands. Mine, not yours.”

Rhys still wasn’t convinced. “But…you didn’t use my body?”

“I didn’t possess you. I don’t think I could have, even if I wanted to. _Which I didn’t_.”

“Thank you for telling me.” He nodded, more relieved than he let on.

“I wouldn’t have told you sooner…but it really hurts to talk about.”

It was true. The White Spire was a touchy subject for all who were involved…and survived. But it left Rhys curious. He and Evangeline had lived through the ordeal together. Not so with Cole. “Does Fay know?”

“Yes.” He responded a little too quickly.

Rhys looked at him, lifting a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “All of it?”

Cole thought for a minute, and bit his lip. He swallowed hard. “No.”

“Are you ever going to tell her?”

Cole picked nervously at his hands. “I’m not sure. She would hate me. She would think I’m a monster.”

“You can’t base a relationship on dishonesty, Cole.”

Cole straightened his back, throwing his hands on top of his head, eye wide, “I can’t tell her, Rhys. I can’t! She will hate me!”

“If you are as serious with her as you claim to be, you will need to tell her.”

“No no no no! I can’t lose her, Rhys! I can’t!” Cole turned, walking down the dirt path, dust spreading through the air as his feet hit the ground. Rhys just stood in the same position, deciding that if he was ever going to convince Cole to come clean, he would have to give him some space to come to that conclusion on his own.

* * *

 

Evangeline sat quietly on the stoop behind the chapel that served as the community kitchen. Fay was next to her, inspecting the plants that grew around the edges of the walkway. They were very small white flowers that Evangeline was unfamiliar with. Fay let out a breath that sounded a lot like boredom.

“Where has Larana gone?” Evangeline asked the elf who now had her arm resting on her knee.

“She went to go check on that man…Thom. Uh…Annette’s husband. Said something about Rhys going along too. I guess they are going to try to heal whatever is wrong with him.”

Evangeline nodded. There was an uncomfortable silence. It was the kind that sat heavy in the air – like how the atmosphere gets right before a storm. Fay spoke up.

“There is something that has been bothering me…”

_Here we go._

“Yes?” Evangeline wondered what Fay could possibly be worried about: Cole’s real past, Rhys’s loyalty and power, how all of them came together to meet right now –

“You used to be a templar. Templars usually have a dependency on lyrium…I remember how hard it was for Cullen to kick lyrium. He still has nightmares sometimes…and it has been a really long time since Kirkwall. How about you?”

“It…never bothered me.”

“What do you mean? Do you still take it?”

“No. I stopped once we left the capital years ago.”

“Then how…”

Evangeline sighed deeply, preparing herself. “Has Cole ever told you about what happened…to Wynne, Rhys’s mother?”

Fay blinked a few times at the templar, confused as to why she would bring something like that up. “No. He doesn’t talk much about it. And when he does, he is purposefully vague.” Fay shrugged, still picking at the flowers growing in the tall grass.

_May as well be blunt._

“I died, Inquisitor. I died in those sewers.”

The Inquisitor suddenly dropped her hand. “What?”

“Just what I said – I died. My heart stopped beating. Wynne saved me.”

The inquisitor shook her head in doubt. “What are you talking about? No amount of magic can bring you back from the dead…not like this, at any rate.”

“She was…harboring a spirit. It was keeping her alive. She was meant to die years before – during the Blight. But a spirit of faith kept her alive. That spirit is now in me.”

“You mean…you are possessed?”

“In a way, yes.” She really wished that word wouldn’t be used to describe her.

“But that doesn’t explain…the lyrium…WAIT. Cassandra told me something about this once. That Seekers of Truth have the power of templars, but do not depend on lyrium…because they are touched…by a spirit…”

“A spirit of faith, yes.”

“So you are…? Are you a seeker?”

“I don’t know. What makes one a seeker?”

“Good question…maybe we should ask Cassandra…or Divine Victoria, I mean.”

Maybe the Divine, who was once a seeker herself, could answer her questions. Shamefully, Evangeline wasn’t as adept in Seeker history. She should correct that. She did know that both the Seekers and the Templar Order started out as the original Inquisition. When she didn't reply, Fay went on.

“Cassandra has this book on the Seekers. It’s full of secrets passed down through the Seekers. I am sure if we went to her, she would know…”

Evangeline nodded, thankful that Fay seemed to be taking the news well. 

"That's a good idea. Maybe after this little adventure is over."

* * *

 

Rhys and Larana, guided by Annette, entered the darkened room. Larana had expected the room to reek of sick or taint, but it only smelled musty like any other cabin made of old wood. It was difficult to say how long the man had been laying in the same position, but when Annette lit a candle beside the bed, Larana could clearly see the man’s features. His face and clothes were clean. There were fresh sheets on the bed. It was clear he was well cared for.

“Now…oh dear. Thom seems to be asleep. No matter – he will just have to wake up, yes?”

Rhys spoke, but kept his voice soft. “No, ma’am. That is quite alright. We can do just the same with him asleep. Best not disturb an ill man.”

“Of course. Well I suppose you would know best, right? Is there anything you need? Special herbs?”

“That will be all for now, thank you. If we require something else, I will let you know.”

Annette stood awkwardly, nervous hands tucked into the front pocket of her apron.

“It…would probably be for the best if we got some privacy in order to concentrate. This type of magic can be very draining.”

“Of course! I shall prepare a special recoup soup!” The older woman giggled at her apparently clever play on words, but finally exited the room.

Rhys turned to the man lying on the bed. Thom’s face was relaxed – he didn’t seem to be in any pain.

“Are you really a healer, Rhys?”

“In a sense. I am a spirit medium.”

“You talk to spirits?”

“Yes.”

“How does that help you heal people?”

“I ask them for help.”

“Oh.”

“How does your healing magic work?”

“The same way other magic does…bends to my will…I guess I don’t politely _ask_.”

“Oh, the spirits must think you are terribly rude, then.”

“Most people find my company offensive. I don’t give a shit.”

He laughed then.

A white wisp appeared, bobbing and twisting through the air as if replying to Rhys’s commands. It fluttered over Thom’s chest and then disappeared. He did some more hand movements in reply.

“So tell me then – how does the Dalish learn magic?”

“Most Keepers only try to keep two or three mages per clan. A mage can be dangerous if they do not receive the proper training or attention. Plus, it keeps the templar’s attention off the clans. But…I learned in my first clan. I was apprentice to the Keeper, training to be First…before…”

“I see. We don’t need to speak of it further, Larana.”

“No. No – it’s ok. Really. Not a lot of non-Dalish folks really know what goes in clans, so I am happy to share. Especially since I have a different perspective than Fay.”

Rhys nodded and continued on his healing work. Larana began to ground and center herself so that she may draw mana from the Fade more easily. She concentrated for a few moments, mentally reaching into the Fade to draw up power. Rhys spoke again.

“Well, it’s not Wasting Disease. But there appears to be something causing excessive phlegm. Most likely the reason he can’t breathe.”

“I don’t believe it can spread from one person to another, as no one else in the village is sick. Must be something within his body causing the illness…”

“His skin is also discolored…”

“He isn’t feverish…or coughing…or really showing any other symptoms…”

“You know, Rhys…we aren’t experienced healers…I have some herbal training and some healing arts training, but this seems like a different or more severe case. Perhaps she should consult a healer or herbalist?”

“She can’t afford one. They are too far away from anywhere for him to travel, and they can’t get someone to come all the way out here for free.”

“This may be complete dung, but I have heard a story once about the plant embrium. It apparently cured a child’s lung disease when her parents surrounded her deathbed with the flowers. It baffled the healers who could not figure out what was wrong with her.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Oh, our Keeper has collected many books over the years about plant and animal life. We use it to teach the other children in the clan to read.”

“Well, it is certainly worth a try. Have you seen any embrium around here?”

“Ooooh!” They both heard a woman’s voice squeal in apparent recollection. Annette came shuffling back into the room, “I know where a little batch grows! I can go pot some up right now!” She was off before either mage could reply.

“I guess we will have our answer soon.”  
Larana hovered her hand above Thom’s chest. Soft white light escaped her fingertips as she mentally pictured the blockages in the man’s passages clearing. His breathing immediately improved, and he let out a deep exhale. It would only be a temporary fix, however. They would need to do something about whatever was creating it in such excess to begin with to fully heal the man.

Rhys and Larana stood for a moment in silence, watching Thom’s chest rise and fall with normal breaths. Larana toyed with a bead in her braids, rotating the smooth, blue ceramic in her fingers, watching as the candlelight gently reflected off its shiny surface. She thought about her life and what she has accomplished so far. Faerydae left the clan and went off to save the world. Larana, a powerful mage in her own right, simply herded halla.

She knew it was more than that to tending to the halla. She had a special bond with the animals that she never had with any person. She communicated with them and cared for them. But she didn’t feel like that made much of a real difference. It did in her clan…but she wondered if life wouldn’t be better if she left the clan. These were weighty, distracting thoughts.

Heavy footsteps entered the room. Annette had returned with two potted embrium. “I have already asked the girls to gather some more! We will have this placed filled in no time!”

* * *

_**Sorry to end there but I really needed to get this posted.** _

_**UP NEXT We finally make it to Wycome _._ Geez. Also IMPORTANT SHIT HAPPENS (ie: Climax of the story)**_

_**This fic has about 5 chapters left, btw.  
** _

 


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